White Queen
by Cpl.Hicks
Summary: Depressed by his loss, Kyle sets out to find eternity. The journey is more than he bargains for as he confronts ghosts from his past, deals with an estranged relationship with Eve, and takes on a mysterious life form called the White Queen.
1. PROLOGUE: Friends for Life

**Author's Note: **_This fanfic incorporates story elements from the PE games, including 3rd Birthday. However, it was written to accommodate new and old PE fans. :) With that in mind, it contains spoilers so enter at your risk. In addition, it has: sex, drugs, violence, disturbing scenes, controversial topics, and harsh language. Lastly, for all you Kyle-Madigan-haters: please push the back button. This story involves his journey to find 'eternity' (Aya). Having said that, if you ain't fond of him then spare me the 'I-hate-Kyle-wah-wah-waaaaah' comments and read another PE story. :P Thanks__._

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><p><strong>WHITE QUEEN<strong>

_PROLOGUE: Friends for Life – Fire and Ice_

June 15, 1976 |Arlington,Texas

Outside in a vast open land, a five-year-old boy sat on a patch of dead grass. A worn-down trailer was stationed several feet behind him. Huddled beneath a large oak tree that offered plenty of shade, the boy entertained himself with his airplane toys. The southern warmth of Texas bore down on his skin and caused the puffiness of his cheeks to slightly redden. Summertime was usually brutal and scorching hot but, thankfully, today's weather was exceptional. It was definitely sunny, yes, but the sky had also brought with it many clouds that provided a cool, gentle breeze. The tire-swing, hung by a thick branch, cracked and moaned against the wind while the mosquitoes quietly buzzed about.

Specks of sunlight bathed the boy and highlighted bits of his auburn-colored hair. Barefoot and donning ragged clothes, the Southern-made boy squealed and deliberately crashed a plane against the base of the oak tree. He had been playing with his toys for roughly two hours straight. The airplanes once belonged to his grandpa, a former aerial navigator who had brought the toys over from Germany during World War I. Large and made of metal, the toys were heavy and unsuitable for his tender age. Twice, he pricked his finger and produced droplets of blood. Yet, he loved these antique toys and didn't intend to stop playing with them any time soon.

"Lunch 's gonna be ready soon," his mother yelled from the kitchen of the trailer. Her Texan accent was thick and husky. "Wash up an' be at the table, 'kay?"

"Five mo' minutes, momma," the boy replied back.

"No, sir, I want you to wash up _now_. Ya hear me right, boy?"

"…Yes, ma'am."

The boy rolled his eyes and reluctantly stood on his feet. He patted off the dust and dead grass that had collected on his pants. As he made his way to the entrance of the trailer he heard a familiar sound out from the distant. Turning his head, the child spotted a rust-red, pick-up truck drive up the hill. It left behind a long trail of dust and black smoke. From where he stood, he could smell the heavy whiff of gas spew from its old pipes. Wrinkling his nose, the child marched straight into the kitchen.

"Daddy's here," the boy announced to his mom, scratching his arm where a mosquito had bitten him.

His mother turned away from the fried chicken she was cooking and peered outside through a nearby window. She watched the pick-up truck come to a full stop in front of the trailer. Her face stiffened when she saw a tall man stumble out of the truck. Cursing beneath her breath, she eventually looked down at her son and frowned.

"Look at you, son. All full of dirt and twigs and bites and lord knows what else. Damn, ya ruined your pants too. Now I's gotta sew 'em together again. What in God's name was I thinkin' when I brought you into this world." She exhaled loudly and focused on her chicken again. "Go wash up, boy, 'fore yo' daddy comes and gives you a good whippin'."

His head sunk low, the child put his airplane toys on the kitchen table and made his way to the bathroom. By the time he turned on the faucet he heard the door of their trailer slam open. He froze in place.

Daddy was sad again.

Washing his hands now, the boy ignored the screaming that went on in the kitchen. It was a common event at their home so this wasn't anything new. However, he often found himself confused during times like this. For instance, he couldn't quite understand why daddy liked to yell and hit people a lot. Momma tried to explain it to him once before. The Vietnam War, she said, had made him a very, very sad man.

"_God damn it, Daryl, you promised me you'd stop!_" he overheard his mother yell from the kitchen. "_You told me you were goin' to your cousin's last night! You went to that damn bar an' got yo'self plastered all over again, didn't you? Look at you, you stupid-half-assed drunk!_"

"_Woman, get outta my face 'fore I break it!_" barked daddy back.

The child kept washing his hands and applied extra soap on them. He took his time to rinse off the dirt that was stuck underneath his nails. During moments like this, it was best to stay out of the way and keep quiet. Daddy had a habit of hitting him whenever he stepped into the picture. He'd call him terrible names and punch him until he passed out. No, the boy didn't want any of that today.

_Fire… _

The child frowned. He looked up at the mirror and immediately wondered who had said that. It sounded close by yet, other than him, there was no one else in the bathroom. He waited until he heard the voice again, but it never came. Meanwhile, the yelling ensued for nearly twenty minutes. He couldn't make out half of his parents' words anymore nor did he care to. He just wanted the shouting to stop. When he heard the sound of glass shatter the boy finally turned off the faucet.

There was silence.

He halfway opened the bathroom door and took a peek outside. "Momma?"

No reply.

Taking a few steps forward, the boy stopped right outside the kitchen space. His bare feet quietly tapped the ground. He clenched his tiny fists together when he noticed mommy on the floor, a large gash across her forehead. Meanwhile, his father stood over her; a half-broken beer bottle in his hand. His eyes were glassy and red.

"Get outta here," his father ordered, "This is between me an' yo' momma, boy. Understand?"

The child took a step back but he didn't leave as instructed. Frightened, he looked at his mother again. "Momma? You awright?"

There was movement now. She stirred to her side and slowly covered the wound on her forehead.

"Go to yo'… room…" she quietly urged.

Aggravated by his son's reluctance to leave, his father advanced toward him. He noticed the airplane toys on the table and snatched them all.

"I warned you 'fore, boy, to stop leavin' yo' shit on the kitchen table! Now get the hell outta here, ya stupid ass!"

The father flung one of the metal-made toys straight at his son's face.

The sharp edges of the airplane inflicted enough damage to cause heavy bleeding on the boy's cheek. He cried. With both hands, he tried to protect his face while his father tossed the other large metal objects at him. One struck the boy at the side of his head and, immediately, he fell to his knees. There was a terrible ringing in his ears.

_Fire_…

The voice emerged again. It was calm. Gentle. For a moment, the boy was able to concentrate on it and ignore the pain that burned on the side of his head.

"_Leave him alone!_" screamed his mom up ahead. "_You ain't right in the head, Daryl! That's yo' boy!_"

"_What? That little faggot? He ain't no son of mines, woman. A fucking pussy 's what he is. And you made him that way._"

Through a blurry vision, the boy saw his mother rise to her feet. She pounded his father's back with both her fists to make him stop. In response, his father spun around and smacked her across the face with the metal toy in his hand. Closing his eyes, the boy heard the sick, muffled sounds of cracked bones. It was soon followed by a heavy metallic-like smell of spilt blood. His father was very sad today.

But so was the boy now.

_Fire… Fire…_

When his mother became silent again, the child finally opened his eyes. Slowly, the boy turned his attention to his father who now muttered incoherently to himself and cried. Dropping the bloody airplane in his hand, the father looked at his wife's motionless body. He turned to his son with a mouth halfway opened.

"We… We's gotta get yo' momma to the hospital…" his dad quietly murmured, "She… She ain't feeling so right, son…"

The boy stood. His skin was flushed hot.

_Fire… Fire… Fire…_

"Help me get your momma to the car…" his dad added and took his wife's legs.

The tall man dragged her body halfway across the kitchen. Then he stopped when he noticed his son hadn't moved.

"We ain't got no time for this now, son," urged his father again, "You go be a good little boy and help yo' momma. She be needin' us. Come on, now, grab her hands."

With dead eyes, the son stared at him.

_Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire…_

"Boy, didn't you hear what I said?" His father's face turned red. "God damn it, you little shit - !"

The father lunged at his son but stopped midway. Something forced him back. He immediately clutched his heart.

_Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire…_

"Oh, god…" the father groaned, "Heart… attack…? Am I… having a…?"

In silence, the boy watched his father writher in pain. He saw his daddy fall; observed him toss and turn and beg for his help. Yet, the boy remained motionless.

"Cold…" his father moaned loudly now, "I feel… s-so cold… My body… it's… so c-cold!"

_Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire…_

Crumbling to the ground, his father clutched his body. His eyes widened in terror when he noticed a sheet of ice form over his skin. Raising his left hand up to eye-level, he witnessed a few of his fingers turn ice-blue and harden before eventually breaking off.

"W-what… what's happening… to m-me…?"

He couldn't understand it. The temperature was still warm outside. Nevertheless, an unexplained cold draft had abruptly appeared out of nowhere and taken over his body, freezing him. The father shuddered uncontrollably as the ice continued to expand across the rest of his body. Each drop of his sweat turned into beads of ice. When he looked up at his son, he was surprised by how calm he appeared. His son didn't move; didn't blink. He stood like a statue.

"H-help me, boy…"

_Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire…_

At last, his son spoke: "_Fire._"

His father blinked.

"_Fire… Fire… Fire…_" his son whispered over and over again. His voice sounded neutral and strange.

As if stuck in a trance, his father nodded to his son. "_Fire_…"

Yes. He needed fire. He needed to feel warm again. The father rose to his feet. Even as parts of his frozen skin cracked and broke off, he headed outside the trailer and walked towards his truck. The boy followed him. By the trailer's doorway, he stood and watched his father remove a tank of gasoline from the truck's bed, then pour it all over his body.

_Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire… Fire…_

"F-fire…" his father said once more and hysterically laughed, as if he found the answer to all of his life's problems.

With his unfrozen right hand, his father removed a match from his back pocket. Then he lit himself up.

In a matter of seconds, his father's laughter turned into terrifying screams. The sudden realization of what he had just done came too late. Staring up at the sky, the man's face twisted in agonizing pain while his entire frozen body erupted into a burst of flames. Meanwhile, the boy continued to watch.

_Mah name's Ely K…_ the voice spoke again, childlike. _Let's be friends…_

The boy smiled. He watched his father's body melt away against the fire. To him, the event was beautiful. As the liquid fire danced around his crystallized body, his father glowed like an angel.

_I'll protect you, 'kay?_

The boy felt the sting on his face suddenly subside. Running a hand over his bloody cheek, he realized his wounds had mysteriously healed themselves.

"You'll protect me…?" the boy slowly asked.

_Even if you forget me, I'll always be with you._

"We're friends now, Ely, I won't ever forget you."

_One day, you will. You'll deny me an', eventually, you'll forget me. But I'll be with you in the end. I exist inside you an' will never leave your side. Never._

At last, the fire subsided and the smell of ash now consumed the air. In silence, the boy checked the final remains of his father. There was only a tiny puddle of water left. Already, it began to evaporate. A part of him wanted to cry.

_I want to play now._

"But…"

_Forget 'bout daddy. Play wit' me instead._

"Okay, Ely…" the child finally agreed.

The boy blinked once before taking a slow step back. He re-entered the trailer. It was dead silent. Spotting one of his airplanes, still splattered with blood, he grabbed it and sat on the ground next to his motionless mother. Giggling, he started to play with his newfound friend.


	2. CHAPTER 1: Leviathan

**Author's Note:** _I thought I should post this chapter up since it is pretty short (unlike the next ones ^_^'). It'll take me awhile to post chapter 2 (it's large and I'm still tweaking things) so I might as well get this sent to bide myself some time, ha. One thing to note: pay attention to the chapter's dates. People overlook that type of thing, but in this story it's important. While the plot moves forward, I do include scenes from the past in the mix from time-to-time, so keep this in mind. :)_

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><p><strong>PHASE 1: HIBERNATION<strong>

**_CHAPTER 1: Leviathan_**

October 13, 2015 | Bering Sea | 7:40am

"Mayday, mayday, mayday!" shouted the radio man, "This is the USS Arial, AL0-37. We're getting knocked up by some heavy waves here. We got hull breach and are taking in water. Repeat, we are taking in water. We need assistance at…"

When the underwater earthquake hit it had spread a series of large aftershock waves across the Bering Sea. Now, inside the USS Arial, a long siren wailed and naval officers and seamen alike scrambled to secure the ship. With the hull breached and reports of more waves ready to arrive, the ship's Bridge Room was buzzing with life.

"Has Level 3 been sealed up yet?" demanded the Captain to his First Officer. "How are our men doing? Any injuries? Casualties?"

"We're still securing the level, sir. As for our men, reports are just coming in. So far, we got fifteen injured and nearly thirty souls trapped in Level 3."

With his hands folded behind him the Captain paced the floor as he took in the grim news.

"Captain!" yelled the Sonar Technician behind him. "You better look at this…"

The Captain joined his technician and peered over his shoulder to look at the monitor. "What is it, Stellar?"

"Sonar is picking up three incoming waves, sir. Based on my calculations, the earthquake originated from approximately seventy-five miles of our location. Its next aftermath waves are scheduled to arrive here within the next few minutes. The last will be a big one. It could possibly put us over, Captain."

"My God…"

"There's something else, Captain." The technician paused as he checked another monitor above his head. The entire screen was lit purple. "Infrared is detecting a large mass up ahead. I can't determine its size. But its size is big enough to take up the entire infrared screen."

"Mass that large? Could it be land?"

"Negative, sir. Whatever it is, it's moving fast… toward our location." There was a slight pause. "We're not alone out here, sir."

The Captain took a step back and glanced at his First Officer who appeared just as baffled as he was.

"It must be another vessel…" assumed the second-in-command. To the technician he immediately asked, "Have you attempted contact, seaman?"

"Yes, sir, but lines remain clear."

"Sonar," the Captain spoke softly, "Determine what this mass is. Try to gather as much information as you can on it. Even if we don't survive, I want a record of it available for the rescue team."

"Aye, Captain," replied the technician.

The Captain walked away from his technician and First Officer. He picked up the Bridge's com and made an announcement to all those on board.

"This is the Captain speaking. We have reports of several waves arriving within the next few minutes. In addition, we have an unknown bogie fast approaching. Secure all levels and make ready the life preserves and boats. Prepare for impact and possible battle, men. God speed. Over and out." The Captain resigned his com and addressed the crew on the bridge: "Battle stations, everyone."

The room lit red and a new alarm sounded off.

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><p>Outside on the vessel's decks, the alarm wailed while hundreds of crewmen ran for cover from the frigid waters of the Bering Sea. Wave upon wave of water splashed onto the deck. With enough power and momentum, the ocean's water managed to drag many seamen, fighter jets, and helicopters alike into the sea.<p>

"This is Petty Officer Owens," the seaman yelled into an intercom. Standing near the door that led into the ship, he urged his comrades inside. "It's chaos up here, Captain. We lost many of our crafts and men. The ocean's levels are significantly rising. I've never seen anything like this before. Right now we're retreating to the lower decks to…"

The PO paused. He, along with many others, stopped in their tracks. There was a long moment of silence as they tried to understand what was up ahead.

Many miles away, something vast approached their ship. Initially, the PO mistook it for a major tsunami. Yet, he noticed the difference of color. Underwater, its massive dark shape rippled through the waters, allowing only brief glimpses of itself.

Its ribbed exterior contained pockets of black pulpy flesh. A series of vast orbs emitted a soft purplish light. Additionally, there were a number of long and spiked tentacles that stretched across for miles. As the major water wave rose its huge form towered over the comparatively small naval vessel.

"I have sighting of the unknown bogie," the PO stumbled to say. His mouth was dry as he saw the water and creature cast a dark shadow high above their ship. It completely blocked out the sky. "_My god, Captain, it's huge._ I…"

Within the next few minutes the secondary water waves slammed the Arial. The last was powerful enough to lift the entire naval vessel upside down. As the seamen screamed, fell, and drowned, only a few managed to witness the destruction caused by the mysterious creature. In only seconds, its tentacles tore the ship in half before engulfing it completely.

Its roar echoed loudly across the Bering Sea.


	3. CHAPTER 2: Southern Gentleman

**Author's Note: **_Yay! Chapter 2! ^_^ Took me awhile to edit and move a few things around. Whereas Chapter 1 opened up pretty quickly, we're gonna slow things down with Chapter 2. This segment is a handful, hah. Still, it was definitely fun to write and I did my best to make it a smooth read. A firm warning: there is heavy language and a few other adult themes in this chapter. (UPDATE: I kinda got tired of referring the agency Kyle works for as only 'agency'. :P After some research -and some soul searching- I came to the conclusion the 'people' he worked for must've been affiliated or a part of the CIA. Given that he worked for the President and was, essentially, a spy who was concerned with national -and global- security it made the most sense. :B)_

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 2: Southern Gentleman<strong>

October 25, 2015 | Austin, Texas | 10:15pm

For the most part, Fall in Texas brought with it a cool, chilly breeze. Several fully blossomed trees turned into lush red and orange colors while many flower species began the process of hibernation. In the meantime, the city of Austin prepared itself for Halloween. It was that special time of the year when the wicked came out to play and dead spirits walked the earth. The images of witches and ghouls plastered the walls of commercial buildings and private residents alike. On the lawns of many homes were carved pumpkins and monster props; complete with lights and sound effects. It looked to be a very promising Halloween this year.

At a club stuck in the middle of Sixth Street downtown, the frenzied sounds of metal-rock pumped loudly in the air while various multicolored lights showered the dance floor. A thick haze of fog smoke settled over the club as the crowd roared and moved to the beat. Celebrating Halloween a few days early, many were dressed in costumes that ranged from the super sexy to the morbidly grotesque.

Chugging down the rest of his glass of rum, Kyle Madigan sat at the very end of the bar and motioned for the bartender to bring him a second round. His face covered by the hood of his Grim Reaper costume, he rested his chin against the palm of his hand.

He never intended to return to Texas. The moment he moved to California, and later New York, he thought he left this dreadful place for good. As far as he was concerned, Texas was a part of his dead past. There were too many bad memories here, ones he didn't care to revisit ever again. Still. Here he was, in Austin, the heartland city of the unique and strange. Funny, how life had an annoying habit of moving in full circles.

Surveying the night club, Kyle kept to himself. Coming to a club wasn't his idea. Frankly, the music was too loud and too fast for his personal tastes. He'd much prefer something steadier with a softer beat. Perhaps it was the conservative southern man hidden within him that disapproved of it. In any account, tonight's event had brought in a lively and desperate bunch. A lot of young men and women were getting their 'game on'. Watching these sexual conquests unfold before his eyes amused him a bit and, inwardly, he had to laugh as he reminisced on his own younger days.

Yes, once upon a time he was among their rotten ranks. Like any hot-blooded anxious young man, he was a lion on the prowl for sport. At some point, he recalled having a high school sweetheart. Rosy, was it? Or Rosemary? His memory was fuzzy, but he did remember accidentally knocking her up during one of his sexual conquests. Sadly, she had an abortion afterward and they never saw each other again.

Aw, youth… It was definitely an absurd phase in his life. Thank God for rubbers.

The bartender arrived with his drink at last. Rum cola in hand now, Kyle glanced at his watch. His brows pulled together when it read, _10:15_. He made a low growl sound and took a drink.

Damn it. She was late.

"You don't seem to be having a lot of fun here," a female voice emerged from his left side.

Kyle blinked, a bit caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

Turning, he noticed a slim-figured woman sitting next to him. Her long, bare legs were crossed while she leaned slightly against the bar counter. Dressed as a burlesque dancer, Kyle could tell she was no stranger to the male gaze. Donning a delightful smile that stretched to the deepest corners of her mouth, she spoke again.

"I said you don't look like you're having fun."

"Oh. _That_." Kyle set his glass down. "No, I am having the fucking time of my life. I can barely contain myself."

The monotone in his voice made the woman laugh.

"I'm actually waiting for someone," he eventually explained himself, smiling. "And she's late, of course."

The woman frowned. "Oh no, don't tell me _she stood you up_?"

"No. It's not like that. She's just… very late."

"Right…" The woman didn't sound too convinced and smiled again. She set her purse on top of the bar's counter and removed a pack of mint gum from it. Offering a stick to Kyle she eventually asked, "So how 'late' is this woman?"

"Like two hours late."

Out of courtesy, Kyle lowered the hood of his costume and nodded a silent 'thank-you' for the gum. The woman obviously liked what she saw. She grinned back.

"If you don't mind me saying, this woman ought to be ashamed of herself. Standing up a good-looking guy like yourself? For shame."

"It's really not like that."

Kyle scratched the bottom of his chiseled chin. Admittedly, he was flattered. It'd been a long time since a woman came on to him like this, especially at his age. Granted, he wasn't unattractive. Possessing a strong physique and a well-defined bone structure, he bore the face of a handsome gentleman at his prime. But in an age where eternal youth was highly valued and a constant obsession, well, he was considered too old to fuck. He was already pushing into his mid-forties. Staring at his own reflection from across the long horizontal mirror behind the bartender, he saw the face of an aged man.

Chestnut colored eyes. Brown hair cropped short with spiked bangs placed high above his brows. There was a trimmed path of facial hair that followed from one sideburn to the next. He chuckled a bit to himself, immediately noticing a few strands of gray hair peek out, just above his left ear. He also noticed a few subtle wrinkles form at the bent corners of his eyes and mouth.

He had aged like any normal man. Not that he minded. Being mortal and dying as one was a privilege. Each wrinkle and gray hair stood as evident traces of his humanity.

"So you're not on a date, then?"

Kyle frowned; his thoughts interrupted. He stared at the woman. "Huh?"

"The person you're seeing? You aren't together, right?"

He kept silent for a moment. Far be it for him to discuss his private affairs to random strangers. Still. He didn't want to imply he was here on business and raise unnecessary attention to himself either. He wanted to keep a low profile.

"As I said, it's not like that," he replied in a quiet voice and returned back to his drink. "It's just a friendly get-together."

The woman studied him while he swallowed up his glass's contents. She kept silent until he was done.

"Well, then…" she said when Kyle put his glass down, "Since it's just a _friendly get-together_… I have an offer to make."

"Yeah?"

She leaned forward and grinned. "If your _friend_ doesn't show up tonight then how about you take _me_ home instead?"

Kyle stared at her with one brow slightly raised.

Lord, he had been away from the hunt for so long he no longer knew the rules of the game anymore. Apparently the female lions today were just as hungry and vicious as the males. At the back of his mind he recalled the mint gum she offered him earlier and wondered if it was an intentional act on her part.

"I'll admit…" he finally confessed, "You're beautiful and I'm honored by the invitation. But, lady, I'm twice your age and you don't even know my name."

The woman threw back her head as she laughed. "That's okay. You don't know my name either but does any of that really matter? Age is just a number and names are labels we give ourselves. And besides…" She uncrossed her legs and extended out a foot. It touched Kyle's ankle and edged upward. "We're all animals in this kingdom of mankind, baby. It's in our nature to follow our innate impulses. Right?"

Kyle paused. Staring back at his empty drink, he shrugged. "I guess. You're in your prime so you should live it up while you can. And I'm definitely in no position to judge or tell people how they should live their life." After a few seconds of silence he returned his attention to her. "But I'd also like to think we've evolved beyond just following our primal instincts. Don't you think?"

The woman kept quiet.

"And moreover…" He stood up from his seat. Kyle smiled as he showed her the two silver rings on his left hand. "I'm already taken."

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><p>It didn't take Kyle long for him to excuse himself to the men's room. Apparently, a wedding ring was just an adorable trinket in today's world. Granted, there were romantic thinkers like him who still saw significant meaning in it. But to some, like the woman at the bar, it was nothing more than a tempting test to overcome. He could only imagine his relationship status made the sexual conquest only sweeter to the woman. He had to leave at that point.<p>

Alone in the men's restroom now, Kyle turned on a faucet to rinse his face.

He didn't blame the woman for acting on her impulses. Thinking back to his biological father, sexual conquest played a major role in his life too. While he didn't remember much about him, according to Uncle Sky, his old man drank and screwed every woman in town. He was handsome, yes. But underneath the attractive face was a horrible beast. He had beaten and left his mother in a coma before disappearing from their lives forever. To this day, Kyle didn't know what became of the bastard. Even though Uncle Sky had become his surrogate father and knew a few things, he was reluctant to talk. The God-fearing man told him his father had gone to hell.

It bothered Kyle to have a parent like that. It was why he joined the military shortly after high school graduation. He wanted to get away and shed all parts of his southern heritage behind; everything from his asshole-of-a-father, to the annoying Texan accent, to his trailer-trash background. The past was buried now. He was his own person; determined to live for the future than die in the past.

Several times, Kyle entertained the possibility if his father's infidelity had anything to do with the theory that man existed to spread his seed. Was the woman at the bar right after all? Were they all just animals who had evolved, yet, fated to follow the natural order of things? Was his sole role as 'man' designed to carry and provide the seed to life? At least he could've forgiven his father's sins if that were the case.

Kyle turned off the faucet.

It scared Kyle that he might become like his father someday. No child intended to follow their parent's mistakes, but it happened anyway. It was inevitable. Still. Unlike that bastard, Kyle wanted children and vowed to love them with every bit of his soul. He wanted to be the man his father wasn't. The hope of having children, though, was gone. Not only did he receive a vasectomy when he was young, but his beloved wife was…

Kyle looked at the two wedding rings on his left hand.

Technically speaking, he was a free man. He didn't get the chance to exchange vows with his fiancé. She died before they said 'I do'. Kyle's shoulders sagged. His mind wandered back to the face that haunted him every night. Golden locks of hair. Ocean-blue eyes. A gorgeous smile. Velvety soft skin.

Aya Brea was beautiful. While her physical assets could certainly tame any man, it was her strong spirit that overpowered him. Sure, the woman was a bit stubborn. And yeah, she was the type of person who constantly kicked and checked the tires. But he treasured those funny things about her. She had an incredible spit-fire personality and lived life through her own personal code of ethics and passions. It inspired him.

When Kyle touched the ring that once belonged to Aya he felt his body sink. Their love was eternal, even if they didn't get the chance to exchange vows. Together, they had embraced each other's fears, dreams, and passions. They were destined to be together…

Sensing a slight migraine coming, Kyle sought a bottle of pills from his costume's pockets. He ingested three large capsules.

It was a bit unfortunate that he had to up his dosage lately. The headaches had gotten bad since Aya's passing. No doubt, they had to deal with stress and his depression. Being the stubborn and proud man that he was, though, he refused to see a therapist and resorted to medication instead. He preferred quick, efficient fixes as opposed to some fat guy with a diploma asking him about his daddy and mommy issues. Nevertheless, while the pills enabled him to get by the day, his body had developed a bit of a resistance to them. Each day it was getting harder and harder to overcome the headaches.

Kyle's phone rang. Frowning, he put away the bottle of pills and retrieved the phone. He chuckled when he recognized the name on the caller ID screen.

"You're two hours late, you sadistic bitch," Kyle declared immediately after he answered the call, "You owe me a drink now."

"_Oh, darling, I love it when you talk dirty to me_," a female voice on the other line replied. It retained a deep English accent. "_You haven't called me a sadistic bitch since hell week._"

"Please. I'm trying to forget." He smiled. "That aside. Where the hell are you? I waited at the bar and I'm ready to vamoose out of here. This music is driving me insane."

"_Sorry, about that, crybaby. I had to get my hair done. You know how high maintenance we girls can be. And 'sides, it's not every day I get to meet up with my handsome and dashing prodigy, Kyle Madigan_."

Kyle rolled his eyes.

"_I'm at the dance floor_," the woman later said, "_Come find me, love. I'll be waiting for you. Hugs and kisses!_"

The line went dead before Kyle could object. He growled and stuffed the phone back into his pocket.

"Damn it, Claudia."

* * *

><p>Finding Claudia was going to be a royal pain in the ass. The crowd had gotten thicker and crazier. The surrounding haze didn't help much either. In fact, it made it impossible for him to see properly. Crammed between many busy bodies, Kyle shoved and squeezed through many people as he searched for the elusive Claudia. The musk of sweat and liquor was heavy in the air. In a crowd this big and heavily congested, he had difficulty breathing and felt the walls close-in around him.<p>

He regretted taking the pills earlier. Taking liquor and medication hadn't been a bright idea. His heart was going at one thousand miles per hour. Christ.

Cursing to himself, Kyle vowed this would be the last time he'd let Claudia decide their rendezvous point. He felt her presence. She was close by. However, by the time he reached the middle of the dance floor he had to stop. The music was too loud. He could barely hear his own voice as he shouted out her name. Even if he called her cell phone to learn her exact location he wouldn't be able to hear a word. Briefly, Kyle considered leaving until a sudden realization hit him.

His life had been hell since he left the CIA many years ago. To this day there was a large bounty on his head. When he became a rogue agent both the general-public authorities _and_ underground operatives were on the hunt for him. Meeting with anyone, thus, jeopardized him and the person he was meeting. Claudia must've known that and chose this club deliberately. After all, in a place like this there were enough people to get lost in. There was also too much noise to eavesdrop or record a conversation.

Of course, coming here could've also been a test on Claudia's part. Nothing was ever easy with this woman. Back in the day Claudia constantly tested him. That was her job, he supposed. She pushed him to the edge. In her mind, she must've felt her little cat-and-mouse mind games made him an unpredictable, stronger soldier. Admittedly, that was true. He had acquired her talent for manipulation and became a lethal agent because of it. Even if Claudia was a crazy bitch she proved to be a valuable mentor to him.

Kyle took a side step when he thought he spotted her. Around him the club-goers danced faster. Their arms flung high in the air as they waved them back and forth. Kyle's heart pumped harder against the ribcage of his chest. His stomach tightened and he could feel the burning acids of his liquor rise up his throat. Hands clenched, Kyle closed his eyes and attempted to control his inhales and exhales.

_In… Out… In… Out… _

Breathe. God, just breathe…

When he finally reopened his eyes, his heart gradually reduced to a steadier and quieter beat. The tension that built in his stomach also subsided. Kyle made a face as he swallowed down his vomit. Then he abruptly stood still when he noticed something peculiar just a few feet ahead of him.

Dressed in filthy, ragged overalls, there was a young boy no older than five or six. His face was bruised while his pants were torn and covered in splotches of dried blood. He stood amidst the crowd and held something shiny in his hand. He never moved. The child's rich brown eyes stared directly into his. Wide and alert, they didn't blink.

Kyle felt the fine hairs at the back of his neck rise. While he wondered how the young boy managed to sneak into the night club, he couldn't shake this feeling of discomfort. The more he looked at the boy the more he wanted to pass out.

Something felt off with this boy.

"_Think fast,_" a familiar voice suddenly demanded from behind. A moment later… "Bang! You're dead, Madigan."

Kyle nearly choked in his spit.

He felt the tip of an object press hard against his neck. It took him a moment to gather himself and recognize the voice. Once the initial shock was over, he raised his hands in surrender.

"I thought weapons weren't allowed in civilian places, Major," he muttered underneath his breath.

He turned around, only to be confronted by a seven-foot tall, gray-haired woman dressed in a rather charming black dress suit. He scoffed once he realized his error. Looking at the 'weapon' in Claudia's hand, Kyle put his hands down.

"I should've guessed."

"A woman's lipstick is far more dangerous than any weapon in the planet," Claudia informed as matter-of-fact. She popped open the cap of her lipstick and applied some on her lips. Afterward, she looked Kyle over and remarked, "Hmmm, Madigan, you're looking extraordinarily yummy today."

Kyle placed his hands in his costume's pockets. He turned his attention back to the boy. He was gone now, nowhere to be seen. Curious about his whereabouts, he momentarily looked for nearby areas he could've scurried off to. There were no signs of him anywhere. Madigan finally gave up and concluded it was yet another person dressed in costume. No doubt it was a midget masked as some scary kid.

Still. That costume… That child…

"You're a lot different than the last time we saw each other," Kyle asserted at last and returned his gaze back to the woman.

"Yeah, I've practically done a one-eighty, haven't I?"

No doubt, Claudia's physical appearance both intrigued and intimidated people. Claudia wasn't ugly by any stretch of the imagination, especially for someone past her fifties. She had an athletic body that suggested years of dedicated exercise and good diet. Additionally, the whites on her short-cropped hair gave her a sophisticated look while her impressive-sized breasts attracted many male glances.

If he were any other guy he would've found her exceptional. But Kyle knew better. Back when she supervised his training he addressed her as _Major Claudius_.

"Let's go to a place where we can talk," Claudia said with a quick nod.

"Yes, ma'am." He followed.

* * *

><p>When they finally left the dance floor and arrived at a booth Kyle waited until Claudia was too busy ordering their drinks to locate a nearby exit. Claudia was his former mentor and he wanted to believe he could trust her. The cautious soldier in him, however, taught him to always be on guard. There was still a chance the Major informed the CIA about this meeting and had operatives on standby to retain him. Already, he felt eyes on him and wondered if those gazes came from onlookers or undercover agents.<p>

"I realize this get-together is dangerous," he told her, "so I'll keep it brief."

"You're kidding me, right?" Claudia cocked a brow and took her drink from their server. "It's been such a long time since we last spoke. Besides, you know how little I've always regarded our superiors. Do I look concerned?"

"I know. But this is still a risk to you."

"Perhaps. Even so, I've always told you to come to me if you were ever in trouble. So here I am."

Kyle halfway smiled. "I guess you must be happy to discover you're not the only black sheep among the agency's happy flock anymore, huh?"

Claudia's face was unreadable. He couldn't tell whether she agreed or not. Granted, she was considered an outcast in the agency so she could at least relate to his situation. Her 'personal lifestyle' had compromised her career and cost her the rank of Major. In addition, she was no longer an active agent in the field. Even though the CIA kept her on board because she had an eye for new talent and her training methods proved to be effective, she was still considered a liability.

Claudia removed a block of ice from her drink and chewed on it. "If you're wondering if I was disappointed you defected from the CIA, then no. To be quite honest, I knew when I took you under my wing you'd either become an outstanding asset or a terrifying burden to us. It was a gamble I willingly took."

Claudia clasped her hands together and placed them in front of her on the table.

"I don't regret your decision to become a rogue agent any more than I regret my decision to become the woman I am today. But this isn't why we're here, is it? So I'll spare you this idle chit-chat now, Madigan, and ask what it is you want from me."

Kyle reached into his pocket and passed Claudia a small device. It was a GPS that highlighted an area in the Bering Sea region.

"I've reached an obstacle," he finally said, "And I need your help."

"Oh?"

"Specifically speaking, I need a ride."

"What _kind_ of ride, Lieutenant?"

"The type that requires military clearance, of course."

Taking a huge swig from her drink, Claudia stared at the data on the GPS. Her brows pulled together.

"I never imagined you'd successfully track down the organization's other base, Madigan. You're much cleverer than I thought."

"I'm well-informed," he corrected her and leaned forward. "Look, I know the organization has established a second base somewhere in Alaska and that the agency plans to pay a _friendly visit_ there soon. I want to hitch a ride with the boat assigned there."

Claudia set her glass down. "You want a ride, fine. But you're taking a risk here. You've come to me during a rather delicate time. We've already appointed a team of operatives on this mission. The moment they spot you…"

"I know. I'll be careful."

Claudia crossed her arms. "Why are you still going after this organization, Madigan? Your job is done. You defected and wiped your hands clean of this matter. Yet, here you are, pursuing these people and compromising your position? Why?"

Kyle stared at the second ring on his left hand. "I have my reasons."

"I need a better answer than that."

"It's an answer you'll have to settle with, I'm afraid."

Claudia shook her head. "Still the obnoxious maverick, I see. On the day the CIA recruited you, you seemed promising. But I wasn't surprised at all when your former Captain warned me that the only reason why you never ranked above the status of Lieutenant was because you weren't much of a team player. But I suppose that's what made you an excellent field agent for our fine government. You preferred working alone and getting the job done your way. I always hated that about you."

"Why? Because I'm everything you wanted to be?"

She laughed. "As a matter of fact, yes."

"I'll drink to that, then."

Kyle raised his glass and took a drink. Meanwhile, the crowd at the club reached its peak and now moved as a swarm of a thousand bodies. The moment a popular Halloween-based song played in the air the entire dance floor danced in unison, moving like zombies. Claudia removed her cell phone to capture the moment. She took a picture of Madigan with the large crowd behind him. As she put the device away she noticed Kyle staring at her cleavage.

"Like what you see, darling?" Claudia readjusted her v-shaped opening.

"Not really. Although, I'm amazed at the work they did. They look real." Curious, he asked, "Was that the only thing you _altered_?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, sugar..."

Kyle didn't bother asking the million dollar question. The topic of gender-swapping Majors was already way over his head. Instead, he took another sip and winced when the liquor kicked in.

"Didn't you tell me once that you wanted triple-D knockers?"

"I did, didn't I?"

"Change of heart, Major?"

"Change of expenses, actually. It cost more. It's the same for my hands. See?"

Kyle briefly stared at them and noticed her hands had remained the same since the last time he saw them. While the rest of her passed off as feminine and soft, her hands were large and bulky.

"Isn't it funny?" Claudia began and observed a woman sitting across them. "I'm spending thousands of dollars on something an average woman takes for granted."

Claudia's voice was low when she said that last part. While her lips formed a smile it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Evolution is a bitch," she concluded and looked at Kyle. "I don't approve of what that organization did in Neo Ark. And I doubt I'll approve of whatever they're doing in the other base. But I don't blame them for trying to decode the secrets of human genetics. I wished I had the power to determine my body's design. I wish I had a choice in the matter." Claudia stared at Kyle. "You're lucky."

Kyle twirled the ice in his drink. He said nothing.

Claudia sighed. "Listen, Madigan… it's possible I can sneak you into that base. But if you're after the same people the agency wants then why not turn yourself in and get reinstated? You could lead the mission and have complete access to our files and equipment. It'll be as if you never left."

Kyle chuckled. "Are you kidding me? I'll be crucified the moment I walk into headquarters. You think they'll happily take me after what I did, let alone, trust me to lead those agents? Sheeit, I think you need this more than me, Major."

Kyle passed Claudia his drink but she ignored it.

"Madigan, the agency wants you back. Not only do you have first-hand experience against the NMCs, but you're too valuable for them to kill."

Those words prompted Kyle to slam his drink on the table. "Apparently, you don't know what these people are capable of achieving."

Claudia's eyes softened at Kyle's abrupt reaction. "I'm sorry… When I found out what happened to you and your fiancé… I…"

Her words fell silent.

For a second, Kyle glanced at an empty space between him and the Major. Then he recollected himself and brushed back his hair with a few fingers. "Okay… Let's say I do go back to assist in the operation. Then what? They lock me up afterwards? Or worse, I become their guinea pig again?"

"I realize what's at stake for you if you come back. But the crisis we're currently facing could surpass the event that happened in New York or Nevada." Claudia traced the rim of her glass with a finger. "For the past few months, we were getting many reports of spontaneous self-combustion in the Alaskan area."

"And?"

"After the reports stopped altogether we sent a few of our operatives to investigate the matter. On the way to their drop point, however, a massive earthquake hit and our ship went under. No one survived. When our clean-up team arrived they discovered the naval vessel was ripped in half."

"The shockwaves caused that?"

"No. Something else did. Something much worse…" Claudia's eyes remained fixated on her drink. "The salvage team managed to uncover the ship's blog from the wreckage. The blog provided some disturbing details that were later confirmed by the other teams we sent. They all reported sightings of an extraordinarily large underwater creature. It's supposedly the size of Texas."

"Jesus…"

"They've nicknamed it the Leviathan."

Kyle's brows came together. "Did your men discover anything else?"

"Within a day or two of sending our teams to Alaska we lost all communication. To this day, none of them have reported back. Either there's a dead zone in that area or…" She stopped and stared at Kyle. "Look, we did our research into the area and learned about the underwater base of the secret organization. Whether they were responsible for unleashing that horrific underwater creature, we don't know. I'm hoping you can shred some light on the matter."

Kyle kept quiet.

"I know you came here for my help, Madigan, but I also came for yours as well. Perhaps by helping each other out we can _both_ get what we want."

Kyle snorted loudly. "I know how this dance is going to end, Major; with someone's foot up my ass. I'm not going back to the agency if that's what you want." He shook his head. "The agency couldn't kill my body but they did a hell of a job killing my soul. I'll never forgive them for taking the thing that mattered most to me. Never."

"I'm sorry to play the devil's advocate here, Madigan, but you really don't know if the SWAT team that opened fire on you and your fiancé was sent by the agency. It could've come from another organization. You made a lot of enemies."

"Show of hands here," Kyle retorted sarcastically, "Who has spent the last decade on the hunt for my head? Oh, wait… I know! _That would be the agency_. Bingo!" Rolling his eyes, he took another drink. Afterward, he added, "I was the government's fucking pet project. They couldn't afford to lose me. And as for Aya…well, it doesn't take a genius to figure out why she was a national security threat. Anyone else here have the ability to crisp people alive with their mind? Anyone? _Anyone_? No? I didn't think so."

"Are you finished, Lieutenant?"

Claudia allowed Kyle a few moments of silence to pass between them. He emptied his glass and shortly after, raised the hood of his reaper costume over his head. He was set to leave now. When Claudia spoke again her voice became neutral.

"The new team we're sending has been given genetic treatments to enhance their performance in the field. But the likelihood that this next operation will end smoothly is extremely slim." She stopped and leaned forward. "We need you, Madigan."

Kyle reclaimed his GPS and shoved it back inside his pocket. "The base has something I need. That's the only reason why I'm going. After that I'm out of there. I'll leave the rest to you and your people. You all can save the world, I don't care anymore."

Claudia observed Kyle through half-slit eyes. "You've really changed, Madigan. But very well, if that's how you feel… I'll provide you access into the base. However, you'll need to do a few things for me."

He noticed the look on Claudia's face and knew almost immediately that this wasn't going to be the simple in-and-out operation he had originally planned for. No surprise there. In this line of work, there was no such thing as free favors.

"I'll protect you from the agency," she reassured him. "They'll never know of your involvement in this operation. As far as they know, you're just one of the many expendable grunts sent to handle the Leviathan. You'll work on my behalf though. Naturally, you'll need to watch your ass and make sure none of the field agents know who you are or my personal involvement. Understand?"

"Yes. So what is it that you want from me?"

"I want you to find information on the Leviathan. More importantly, though, I want information on the White Queen."

Kyle frowned. "White Queen?"

Claudia scooted out of the booth. Afterward, she stood and towered over Kyle. "The mission to the base occurs in three days from now. I'll have an associate of mines send you all the necessary information you need. Until then, I suggest you take this time to rest. You're going to need it."


	4. CHAPTER 3: Pressure

**Author's Note:** _Sorry for the slight delay in updates. This story became a monster. O_O I'm at chapter 8 and it's hit the 75-page mark. :p And that's only the mid-point of the story, lol. I've decided to separate the overall story into '4 Phases' (or 4 sections), with each section serving a main theme. If you return to Chapter 1, you'll notice the title 'Phase 1: Hibernation' has been added. Needless to say, I'm constantly going back and forth between chapters to ensure continuity and remedy certain issues along the way. I hope you guys enjoy my interpretation of PE. :)_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 3: Pressure<strong>

October 26, 2015 | Los Angeles, California | 10:45am

Long strings of saliva drooled and dripped from the far edges of its wide mouth. Possessing six long legs and a massive set of teeth, the insect-like creature moved fluidly and without a sound. Against the dim lighting of the room, the entire exoskeleton structure of its back, glossed by a yellowish mucus-like substance, shimmered. Each of its movements was exact and well calculated. First it crept left; then it shifted right a brief second later. All the while, its large midnight black eyes stared intensely at the lone agent present. With cropped blond hair and a thin physique, the woman stood her ground. Her finger on the trigger, she followed its path until the barrel of her assault rifle met the mid-section of its skeletal ribbed cage. She fired three automatic shots. In an instant, the creature screamed. Then it dissipated into thin air.

"_Threat neutralized_," a computerized voice announced loudly in the woman's headset. "_Twenty BP appointed._"

A new target appeared; this one long-shaped and humanoid. It came from the ceiling above and swiped at her. Rolling out of its way, she barely escaped from its massive claw. With only a second to spare, she aimed and shot. Her bullet grazed its shoulder. The creature reacted with a war cry and lunged at her again. She back-flipped out of its way and opened fire. While she failed to hit a vital organ the new wound stunned it long enough for her to aim at the forehead.

"_Threat neutralized_. _Fifty BP appointed._"

Taking a deep breath, the agent quickly reloaded her weapon. She grabbed an extra clip attached to her shoulder holster and slammed it right home. Almost immediately, two additional targets flanked her sides while a third appeared just ahead. Each was twice her size and armed with razor-sharp nails and teeth. A series of tentacles protruded from their backs. The lone woman felt her heart pound hard against her chest as they closed in on her position. In her mind, she told herself not to panic.

The agent turned her attention to the nearest threat. Several rifle rounds reached the lower part of its body. She hadn't killed it but did succeed in slowing it down some. It struggled to get back up. Meanwhile, the second converged on her. Too fast, she only had time to smack its head with the butt of her rifle. Her heart raced faster while the fingers that grasped her weapon slightly twitched.

Already, two more threats had appeared and were ready to enter battle. Too many. There were too many of them. Even when she killed plenty of the creatures their ranks quickly replenished themselves. Worse, their numbers had doubled within the span of a few moments. Growling, she raised her rifle and fired at whatever crossed her path.

"_Threat neutralized. One-hundred BP appointed._"

"_Threat neutralized. Fifty BP appointed._"

"_Threat neutralized. One-hundred BP appointed._"

"_Threat neutralized. Twenty BP appointed._"

The computer updated each kill she made. However, the female agent ignored her current scores and focused on the onslaught that surrounded and outnumbered her. There was no time to think or strategize anymore, only time to react. She didn't care if a particular target earned her a lot of Bounty-Points, or if she hit a vital organ. She needed to survive. Her plan of attack was to kill anything that moved. It was as simple as that.

Her strategy changed drastically when a friendly suddenly appeared amidst the chaos. It was a man. Her heart stopped. The sight of him made her legs heavy and arms weak. She was very familiar with this friendly: chestnut brown eyes and hair that was cut into several textured layers; a tall and well-maintained physique. He wore several layers of clothing, including a heavy coat. Before her mouth could open, four targets jumped him from behind.

"Oh my god, Kyle!" the woman gasped out loud.

Panicked, she fired a spray of bullets. They penetrated both the man and creatures.

"_Friendly killed_," the computer announced evenly, "_One thousand BP deducted. End simulation now._"

And with that declaration, all targets in the field dissipated. The woman watched the final pixels of Kyle's face disappear along with the rest of them. She bit her lip.

Sighing to herself, the female agent removed her virtual-reality glasses and wiped droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. She now stood in the middle of an empty chamber that was practically the size of a basketball court. An overlay of red color cast over the room. Whereas seconds ago she was in the heat of battle, her entire environment had inherited a calm mood. With the exception of the soft breathing sounds she made, it was quiet. Seconds later, however, a set of lights clicked on and she could see movement from a dark-lit platform many feet above ground level. It was the Control Room.

"You almost beat your previous record, Eve," a man's voice emitted from the platform. His sounds echoed across the vast chamber. "Pretty damn impressive, girl."

Another section of lights activated and a man in his forties came into full view. Wearing flannel pants, flip-flops, a non-tucked plain t-shirt, and a brown blazer jacket, he dressed rather casually. The lower part of the man's face was lined with a goatee while his mid-length dust-blond hair was uncombed and shaggy. The man's eyes were concealed by circular-rimmed shades. Hands in his pockets, he studied Eve with a smile on his face.

"Too bad you made that fatal move towards the end, though," the man added with a chuckle.

Eve's face, usually the shade of off-white, flared pink now. Her ocean-blue eyes illuminated with intensity.

"What was _that_ about, Pierce?" she barked at the tech-man. "What was the point of including Kyle in this VR session?"

Pierce froze in place, as if caught off guard. Before he could reply, a sealed door that led to the simulator chamber split apart. A path of light bathed into the room and a tall, bald-headed black man with a long grizzled beard stood at the doorway. He donned an impressive black-and-white penciled suit. His glass-black laced shoes clacked crisply against the pavement when he took a step forward.

"The point was pressure, Agent Eve Brea," the commanding officer of the Mitochondrial Investigation and Suppression Team explained as matter-of-fact. His voice was deep and clear. "It's not enough to know whether you can shoot fast, take down an NMC, or survive an entire onslaught of monsters. The true test is how you handle the forces of nature that are beyond your control."

Eve's shoulders sagged a bit. She stared at her weapon.

"You lost your nerve in those final seconds," the tall man remarked. He entered the room and stopped right in front of Eve. Face-to-face with her, he asserted in a firm tone: "You saw a member of your family and you freaked. In this line of work, Agent Brea, you don't have the luxury of losing your head in battle."

"I… I understand, sir. But in a scenario like this…" She stopped herself and tried to form a set of appropriate words together. When that didn't work, she said exactly what was on her mind. "It was a no-win situation, Broderick, sir. There were so many of them. I… I couldn't save him, even if I _did_ maintain control of myself. How can I win?"

"Simple: you don't." Broderick smiled back. The tiny gesture felt forced. "And that was the second purpose of this exercise."

"Sir?"

"There will be plenty of no-win cases like that, I can guarantee it," he clarified and folded his arms behind him. "You have to accept defeat and learn how to cope with that loss, no matter how insufferable it feels. Not many MIST agents can do that, though. Most of the times, they lose their heads and either get themselves killed or quit the agency altogether. In any account, they don't recover."

Broderick's voice was low and soft, which seemed peculiar for a man of his statue. As far as Eve had known him, he didn't strike her as the vulnerable type. It became apparent to her, then, that he spoke from personal experience.

"Knowing this, Agent Brea," he continued, "you have to ask yourself: are you the type of person that uses pressure to drive yourself forward? Or the type that folds?"

Director Broderick left the questions as that and took several steps away from her. He nodded only once to Pierce to shut down the simulator room. As the tech-man typed a few key commands into the consoles next to him, Broderick headed back the same way he came from. He paused at the door, though, and glanced at Eve one more time.

"You got a mission coming up, Eve. Please head to my office later this afternoon so I can give you a briefing on it."

"Yes, sir."

Eve watched him leave.

Above, Pierce wrapped things up and shut down all the lights, including the red color that overlaid the entire chamber. He quietly exited the Control Room. Surrounded by blackness, only the light from the doorway Broderick passed through showed Eve the way out. Cradling the rifle in her hands, she took a deep inhale.

It wasn't that Eve didn't appreciate Broderick's harsh words or advice. As cutthroat as he was, Rupert had been an agent of MIST long enough to know what survival lessons needed to be learned. Rumors that he had lost his family during the New York Blockade Incident of 1997 were written all over his face. He knew what was best for his crew. And Eve really did understand his concepts of pressure and pain. Being a member of MIST for several years she had no choice but to develop a thicker skin, something she severely lacked on her first day here at headquarters. Still. The concept of loss… That wasn't something she could ever get used to.

_What led you here was hope for tomorrow… Smile and walk toward the future. I'll be watching over you…_

Those were Aya's final words before she departed. Eve's fingers tightened over her weapon. She had lost her big sister several years ago. While she pushed forward to live for the future, the pain and guilt still remained in her. For Eve, she didn't want to experience this type of sensation ever again. She didn't want to simply _cope_ with loss; she wanted to prevent it at all costs. _Period._ Her face hard now, Eve finally stepped away from the darkness of the chamber and into the light of the next room. She had a mission to prepare for.


	5. CHAPTER 4: Homecoming

(_**Author's Note:**_ _This was my favorite chapter to write so far. It's very emotional-driven. I've tried to write a PE story that brings in a humanist perspective. It's not just about cool powers and action. This story is really about how Kyle and Eve cope with their loss, which ultimately brings in the best and worse in them. __I provided a bit of Third Birthday back-plot in this chapter. It's just the basics. You'll get more insight from Eve's perspective next chapter. __Lastly, it was really hard figuring out which military Kyle belonged to. O.o The game said he served the Air Force for 4 years. But then the official PE2 site said Special Forces. The site's been taken down so I decided to go with what the actual game says. :P_)

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 4: Homecoming<strong>

October 26, 2015 | Arlington, Texas | 3:03pm

The five-hour ride to his hometown took longer than he anticipated. Earlier in his trip, there were two car wrecks that had caused a major traffic back-up, as well as a few road closures due to construction work. Add to that, a couple of restroom breaks in between, and suddenly his _slight_ delay became a large pain the ass. Many times he wanted to turn back and forget the whole damn thing. Whether he was too stubborn to quit or driven by some unknown force of nature, he pushed forward anyway and was now only fifteen minutes from his final destination.

Admittedly, Kyle hadn't planned to pay a visit to his hometown at all during his time in Texas. With his mission just around the corner, he intended to stay at a hotel until Claudia called and told him where and when to meet his informant. The last thing he wanted was to take a road trip down memory lane. Still, when he woke up this morning there was an intense desire to visit his childhood place. Perhaps he was curious of all the changes made to his hometown during his absence. Or maybe he wanted to pay proper respects to his mother while he had the opportunity.

Kyle pushed hard on the petal of his motorcycle bike. Wearing a dark helmet, a red-striped black biker jacket, leather boots, and faded denim jeans, his body was pretty much protected by the heavy winds. The highway interstate he road on was thankfully clear, save for a few truckers here and there. With only the afternoon sun on his back, he indulged himself and went a few miles above the speed limit.

Surrounded by open landscape and a bright blue sky, he admitted to himself that he missed this scenery. While the majority of him regretted coming back, a part of him did yearn to hear the quietness of the land again; to feel the raw dirt of southern ground against his bare feet.

He wished Aya was here with him.

Kyle chuckled to himself. Aw, Aya. No doubt the city girl would've complained about the heat and humidity. The Boston native preferred the cold and wasn't a big fan of open land. The dead grass and trees certainly wouldn't have impressed her any. Whereas he enjoyed warm temperatures and the wilderness, she liked being in the middle of the action, surrounded by lights and eccentric people.

Aya…

Kyle's hands clenched a bit tighter on the handles of his bike. Even on trips like this, he had to remind himself not to think of her. As always, however, Aya was never far away from his thoughts. Any time he experienced something wonderful or deeply personal he quickly regretted not having his wife to share it with him.

He knew he had to get over this feeling of guilt. Aya would've wanted him to be happy and live it up. While he didn't want to get wrapped in the past himself, he couldn't help it nowadays. Yes, he tried new experiences, visited different places around the world, and even dated a few women in an attempt to 'live life'. But it was all a joke. The taste of food somehow lost its flavor. Each location felt vacant. And all the women he shared his bed with couldn't provide the same warm caresses Aya had given to him.

Aya Brea wasn't someone he could just 'get over' with the snap of a finger. When she entered his life for the first time he knew, right then, this was the woman he wanted to spend eternity with. She was a diamond in the rough, in every sense of the word. It was difficult finding someone or something to replace her. What drove him to her wasn't just the passion either, but also a similar background he shared. Like him, Aya was an outcast.

Many times during their relationship, Aya tried to conceal her fears from him. Still, he knew better. He knew what made her unique, why people feared her, and why Aya was afraid of herself. She was afraid of her powers.

Mitochondria… It was the driving force behind the incredible abilities his wife harbored. According to Aya, her mitochondria 'awakening' happened many years ago, during a horrible fire at an opera house. Hundreds of people had mysteriously self-combusted into flames but Aya survived unscathed. It was eventually discovered that the opera singer, Melissa Pearce, was responsible for their deaths, which then led to the New York Blockade Incident of 1997. Melissa had the ability to manipulate other people's mitochondria. She used her power to change her victims into monsters known as Neo-Mitochondrial Creatures. Pearce's ultimate goal was to bring in a new world order with the birth of an ultimate being. Pearce's horrible gift, however, wasn't her own.

The power Melissa and Aya encompassed had originated from a common human ancestral being known as 'Mitochondrial Eve'. Supposedly, all of the human race could be traced back to Eve 200,000 years ago. Her mitochondria had been passed down to generations upon generations of men and women alike. While many of her mitochondria remained in its dormant state, others awoke. Some of Eve's mitochondria developed a symbiotic relationship with their host. Other mitochondria, however, desired freedom and, therefore, used their host as mere vehicles to execute their plans.

Aya had been one of the lucky ones. She was able to coexist with her cells and use her evolutionary powers to destroy Melissa and the offspring she bore. Because Aya served as a prime example of human potential, however, a hidden organization sought to uncover the secrets behind her evolutionary powers.

At an underground base called Neo Ark, the Organization used her blood samples to create Artificial Neo-Mitochondrial Creatures. Many test subjects had volunteered for the project. Even if it cost them their humanity they were desperate for a chance at eternal life. But the ANMCs had become unstable and violent creatures. They were led only by their basic instincts, mainly to feed. In an attempt to telepathically control them the Organization created a clone from Aya's blood. They gave birth to a child named 'Eve'.

As Kyle stared at the road ahead of him, memories of the Neo Ark incident flooded his mind. He was there. Dryfield, Nevada. It was at this town where the base was located and where he met Aya and Eve. Initially, he was sent as a covert operative on behalf of the government to locate the secret organization and gather intelligence. It should've been a simple in-and-out job; no different than the other gigs he pulled off before. Instead, he committed the greatest sin an agent could ever commit: he got emotionally involved. When the dust finally settled he made a decision to quit the CIA. He wanted to live out the rest of his life with Aya and Eve. They had become his family.

It should've been a happy ending and, for a long time, it really was. The three of them lived together in New York, blissfully enjoying each other's company. Eve attended college while Aya worked for the FBI. He, himself, worked for a new agency whose goal was to investigate internal and external threats, including those from agencies like the CIA. Despite a few hiccups here and there, everything had been settled.

All of that changed on the wedding day.

A team of SWAT members broke into their church and opened fire at Aya and him before they could exchange vows. Their actions set into motion a chain of events that led to the birth of the Twisted.

When the mysterious creatures arrived on Earth, they carried with them the power to bend time. Raising towers of tree-like structures, they gathered the souls of their victims and transformed their bodies into more Twisted. Aya was ultimately able to defeat them, but lost her soul in the process. Eve, who had also been affected by the event, became the new owner of Aya's body.

The destruction of the Twisted sparked the creation of a new timeline and memories of what occurred before were immediately removed. By some miracle, Kyle still remembered what had happened to his wife, even when he wasn't supposed to. His memories remained unclear on some things, but he did recall the day of their wedding day massacre. And he knew, with absolute certainly, that Eve now resided in her body. Perhaps his love for Aya was strong enough to break through the time alterations? Or perhaps it was something else.

With the knowledge he possessed, Kyle was now on a mission. He wanted Aya back. He failed to save her. Worse, the tragic events had also changed Eve's life forever. It was his job, then, to settle things once and for all and make things right for the three of them. He'd die trying.

The sound of a siren interrupted Kyle's last thought. Blinking, he noticed on his rear-view mirror a patrol car come up from behind him with lights flashing. He glanced at his meter afterward and realized he had gone _way_ past the speed limit.

"Damn it…" he muttered under his breathe.

He slowed down and pulled over to the curve. Wonderful. The last thing he needed was to be stopped by Texas Highway Patrol. They were a rigid lot and didn't take crap from anyone. Bored out of their minds, these guys spent hours hidden behind bushes and trees, desperate to catch speeders or any type of action. Hopefully, the patrol man he had to deal with wasn't one of those hothead types.

Kyle came to a full stop and pulled out his bike's brake with the heel of his boot. He heard the door of the patrol car open and close shut. Removing his helmet, Kyle set it between his legs and waited for the officer. Looking up briefly at a nearby sign, he realized he was in Arlington now; not far from his mother's place.

A tall Hispanic man in his forties approached. With big furry arms and a belly, he looked like a beast. He removed his hat and revealed large black eyes and a balding scalp. The officer stroked the tip of his coarse mustache.

"So where's the fire?" the patrol man asked when he stopped beside Kyle.

"Excuse me?"

"You were driving twenty miles over," the officer explained, "There must've been a fire if you were going that fast. Or didn't you realize?"

Licking his lips, Kyle folded his arms and rested them on his bike's handlebars. "Honestly, officer? I wasn't really paying attention."

The patrol man looked at him for a moment with one brow raised. Afterward, he took out a pad from his back pocket. "License and registration, please."

Sighing softly to himself, Kyle withdrew his wallet and gave him his identification card. He hunted for his registration papers inside his jacket.

"_Madigan…_" the officer slowly read aloud from the card. He suddenly stopped. "As in… _Kyle Madigan_? From town?"

"Yep. That's me."

The officer grinned.

"Christ, Kyle. I… can't believe it's you." When the officer noticed the puzzled look on Kyle's face he quickly added, "I'm Javier Garcia. Remember me? We went to high school together."

Officer Garcia extended a hand out. Kyle hesitated. Admittedly, it was a bit of a shock to encounter someone from his past. He was used to being a stranger to people. Many years he devoted his life into being the person no one knew or remembered. Now he was here, in the presence of a man who _did_ know him on a personal level. Kyle finally recalled the name. He played football with a Javier Garcia. But that man was as thin as a stick and very shy. Studying the man's features, though, he realized the officer shared the same large eyes as the one he played ball with.

"Holy shit, you got fat," spat Kyle. He took his hand and shook it.

"Fuck you, pendejo," replied Javier in a light-hearted manner and gave him back his identification card. He put his pad away.

Kyle got off his bike so that they could stand face-to-face. "I almost didn't recognize you. You used to be this nervous twig that muttered a few words here and there and got picked on by the bigger guys. Now look at you, an officer of the state. You definitely came along nicely."

"Same goes to you. You're not the redneck I remember," Javier joked. "I don't even hear an accent coming for you anymore. What, you go to the city and become a different person, or what?"

"Something like that."

"Are you married? I see rings on your finger."

A pause. "Yeah… I got a wife. And you?"

"I'm the proud father of three. We got a fourth on the way."

"Wow. You've been pretty busy."

"Most definitely." Javier grinned. Then he shook his head. "I never imagined I'd see you here in town again."

Kyle shrugged and unzipped his biker jacket. "I didn't plan to come back, honestly. It just kinda happened."

"You always hated it here. I figured you'd find a way to leave this place and you did. Junior year you're in football practice, telling me about joining the Air Force after graduation. The next day… you disappear from town altogether."

Kyle frowned. Either the man mistook him for someone else, or Javier just lost his marbles. "I didn't leave town. I didn't go anywhere. I graduated with you guys on senior year, remember? And yeah, I did join the Air Force after graduation."

Javier went silent. He looked confused.

"Why are you looking at me that way?" Kyle laughed, a bit amused by this. "What, you don't remember me graduating with you guys? I got the high school diploma to prove it, asshole."

Javier rolled his eyes. "Fine, if that's what you think, puto… In any account, it's great you got into the Air Force after all."

"Thanks."

"I don't blame you for leaving this place, you know," Javier commented. "Sheeit, no one liked you here."

Kyle chuckled. "Was it that obvious?"

Javier's face became serious. "The rumors they spread about you were ridiculous. Everyone was ready to give you a good lynching after what happened to Rosemary…"

Flushed at the face, Javier suddenly stopped himself and turned quiet again. The mere mention of her name tugged at Kyle for reasons he didn't understand. At first, he had to think on it. Then he remembered the origins of that particular name. Rosemary: the woman he had accidentally gotten pregnant.

Admittedly, he felt ashamed that he couldn't recall much between them, other than she got an abortion. He sensed there was more to the story, especially since they were supposedly high school sweethearts. However, memories of her remained enshrouded deep in his mind. Each time he tried to piece together the puzzle of Rosemary a new wall would form and his mind drifted into different, random directions. His head always hurt whenever he tried to summon a visual image of her face.

Inwardly, Kyle cursed to himself. Only a few minutes in this town and, already, he was going mad.

"What happened to her?" he asked Javier.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"What happened to Rosemary? Is she still in town?"

The look of confusion reappeared on Javier's face. "You don't… remember?"

Kyle crossed his arms. He expected Javier to elaborate on it. Instead, the patrol officer's face grew pale. He quickly shook his head.

"N-no. No. Let's not talk about this anymore, Kyle. There's no sense in discussing the past."

"Why not? I just want to know how Rosemary is doing and–"

"Weren't you the one who used to tell me you should always keep your head to the future?" Javier took a step away from Kyle. "I never imagined I'd see you here in town again. It wasn't a good idea, if you ask me. If you don't mind… can you tell me what your business is here?"

Javier's abrupt behavioral change caught Kyle off guard. He had reverted back to the nervous young man he remembered back in the day. However, the tone of his voice just now changed from old-time friend to that of an authoritative man. Kyle knew, then, he couldn't stay in town for long.

"I wanted to pay my respects to my mother. I plan to leave before nightfall."

"Oh…" Javier stared at his boots. "Well, um… You're not far from her. The road you'd usually take to her place is currently under construction. I can get you to an alternative route, though."

"Thanks. And Uncle Sky?"

"Uncle Sky?" Javier tilted his head to the side, a bit surprised. "He's still alive."

"Where?"

"He's in a nursing home."

"Same direction as mom's place?"

Javier withdrew a cigarette from his back pocket. Kyle found it peculiar. From what he recalled during their school days together, Javier only smoked whenever he was either overly excited… or overly nervous.

The patrol officer lit his cigarette with a match and took a deep inhale. Then he looked up with a blank expression on his face. "You sure you want to see him?"

There was a long moment of silence from Kyle. He kept his attention to the empty road nearby. Every inch of his being wanted to say 'no'. The memories he had of that man were anything but cheerful. In fact, Uncle Sky was a part of the reason why he steered clear from Texas. God-fearing and vengeful, that tyrant-of-a-man had become an image as worse as his biological father. Yet, something within him wanted to see that man again. Perhaps it wanted to confront him and get rid of his ghost once and for all.

"Yeah," Kyle finally said with a firm nod.

Javier studied his face. Then he nodded. "Follow me."

* * *

><p>The trip to his mother's place didn't take too long, only a few minutes away. When they finally arrived, Kyle was grateful that the grass had been kept in very good shape; watered and trimmed appropriately. The trees, themselves, were thick, tall, and green. Spread across the entire land, they provided plenty of shade. As the winds of fall season passed between them, their leaves sang. Overall, the cemetery was peaceful.<p>

Kneeling before her grave, Kyle read the words inscribed on his mother's gravestone: _Jezebel Madigan, May 4, 1951 – August 15, 1988_

Aside from the image of an angel to the far left corner, there was nothing else engraved on the stone. There was only a name, a birth date, and the deceased date; nothing else. Kyle's hand reached to touch the block of marble stone. It felt cool to his touch. Closing his eyes, he conjured up the image of a blond-haired southern woman cooking fried chicken during summertime. Her back facing him, he struggled to remember her face but couldn't.

"She had a decent funeral," remarked Javier in a low voice. He stood a few feet away, under a large tree. He was on his second cigarette now. "The church pitched in and a few people showed up. It was sunny."

Kyle pursed his lips.

"She really put up a fight before Uncle Sky finally made a decision to turn off her life support. If it means anything to you… she didn't feel pain."

Javier's words passed to his ears, but Kyle said nothing. Lowering his head, he tried to make peace with this newfound information. Beaten to a pulp by his father, his mother had been in a coma and restricted to life-support throughout his entire life. Growing up, then, he thought of her as Snow White. As a boy, he believed a prince would someday arrive and wake her up. But he never came. Meanwhile, Uncle Sky had used his personal funds as well as donations from fellow church-goers to pay for his sister's hospital expenses.

Kyle regretted not being there for his mother's funeral. 1988. That was the year he had graduated and entered Lackland Air Force Base. If someone had told him about her death, he would've dropped everything and gone to it. As much as he hated this town, nothing would've stopped him from seeing her. But no one said a word. He had to look up her profile months before his wedding to Aya to discover the harsh truth. Today was officially his first visit to her grave. Jesus. Why didn't anyone send him a letter to the base? Why didn't Uncle Sky tell him about her passing? All these years…

"I want to see my uncle now," Kyle demanded; his eyes narrowed.

Javier noted the tone on his voice. "Maybe… you shouldn't."

Kyle stood and turned to face him. "I already made up my mind, Javier. Now take me to him."

Javier sighed and killed his cigarette with his boot. Kyle followed him out to their respective vehicles on the road nearby. After putting on his helmet, Kyle started up the bike's engine. He rode closely behind Javier's patrol car. Together, they exited the cemetery and entered town.

As he passed by familiar restaurants and stores, Kyle couldn't help but feel a heavy burden on his heart. This entire trip was plagued by various emotions he once shredded away. He was now on his way to meet a man he hadn't seen since he left town. Feeling his stomach's muscles tense up, Kyle immediately wished he wasn't here. At the very least, he should've come back _after_ he settled business in Alaska. The last thing he needed was to be on an emotional trip during a dangerous mission. He should be resting; not revisiting ghosts of his past. Nevertheless, Kyle felt he had to be here. It felt… appropriate.

Up ahead, Javier stopped at a curb and flashed his rear lights. He was temporarily parked at a street adjacent to a two-storied Victorian home. It was gated and had a wide yard with a couple of massive trees. Two gardeners were in the process of raking leaves and setting up Halloween decorations. On a huge block of marble the words, _Evergreen Nursing Home_, stood tall.

One of Javier's arms stuck out his car window and motioned for Kyle to meet him. Madigan pulled his bike to the patrol officer's side and removed his helmet.

"This is it," Javier told him through his window. He sighed. "I don't suppose I can convince you not to see him, hm? You… might not like what he has to say about you."

Kyle didn't need to read Javier's face to know how much he disapproved of this. "Thank you, but, this is something I have to do."

"I understand." There was a long pause. "Um. You'll… be out of here before nightfall. Right, Kyle…?"

It didn't take a genius to read between the lines. Kyle knew full well that Javier wanted him out of town immediately after his visit. Because he had no intentions of staying any longer than necessary, he nodded a confirmation. Afterward, Javier stared at the nursing home up ahead. His face tilted to the right.

"The town's people may have gotten younger, but the old folks still remember you. They remember you and all the bad blood spilt." Slowly, he added, "It's not safe."

Kyle nodded in understanding. Javier smiled and looked back at him.

"You know, you were one of the few friends I made during high school. When the rumors hit, I didn't believe any of them. You never judged me and actually inspired me to build up my confidence. You're one of the reasons I stuck around here, became an officer, and have a wife today."

"No," Kyle finally spoke. "That was all your doing, Javier. You've always had the power to change your destiny."

"As do you, my friend, as do you…" Javier stuck out his hand and shook Kyle's hand firmly one last time. "Remember: keep your head to the future. Okay, pendejo?"

Kyle chuckled. "I will, ass-wipe."

Javier withdrew his hand and nodded a farewell to him. Afterward, Kyle watched him pull the car into reverse and back out. While a part of him was sad that they didn't exchange contact information, he knew it was for the best. Some meetings in life were meant to be brief. Besides, he didn't want to add any more drama in Javier's life. It was better they went their separate ways. Kyle watched him turn on the streetlight before completely disappearing beyond the next road.

Kyle returned his attention to the white building ahead of him. The more he stared at it the more his head hurt. It was somehow ironic that such an innocent-looking home held within it an awful, self-righteous man that he feared a good chunk of his younger life. Removing the bottle of pills from his pocket, Kyle chugged down three of them. Then he took his bike to the visitor's parking lot.

* * *

><p>After Kyle filled out the guest form and identified himself in the visitors' area, he was told to stick around for his escort. As he leaned against a wall and waited, he observed the interior of the nursing home. It was a pretty respectable place. From what he remembered, Evergreen Nursing Home was mostly funded by the church. He wasn't surprised, then, that half the senior citizens here were followers. He saw bible books on several tables and a few images of the Holy Father hung on the walls. The walls had been recently coated with a fresh yellow color and the refurnished furniture practically looked new. The cherry-wooden floor, itself, had a nice sheen to it and gave the place a nice pop of color. Large sets of windows with fancy interlaced-design curtains allowed plenty of sunlight inside the home. Close by, he saw the lobby area and was equally impressed by the large screen TV and expensive couches there. About the only thing he could complain about was the smell. The air reeked of piss and shit.<p>

In the lobby area, he noticed an elderly man muttering incoherent things to himself while on old lady sat motionlessly in her wheelchair and stared at a blank wall. They both had the look of death on them. The price to pay for mortality, Kyle thought. It seemed a bit of a tragedy. Once, these people were independent, young, and full of energy. They had made lives for themselves. But now? They had all reverted back to their child-like functions and were waiting to die.

In his mid-forties, there were many moments Kyle contemplated his own mortality. Had Aya still been around he'd feel slightly embarrassed by the possibility of her waking up one day with an old man beside her. Whereas he aged, her mitochondria kept her young. Fifty years from now he would end up like that elderly man who shat all over himself while she would've remained youthful and beautiful. He had to wonder if she still would've loved him then.

"_Mr. Madigan?_"

He turned and saw a young female orderly approach him. He pushed off the wall. "Yeah, that's me."

"I'm Diane." She shook his hand. "I'll take you to your uncle now."

Nodding, Kyle followed the woman to another section of the nursing home. They reached a large open space with a staircase and an impressive glass chandelier that hung high above from the ceiling. Taking the flight of stairs, Kyle began his ascent to the second level. The wooden floor creaked with each step he took. His hand on the rail, he gazed up at a large, oval-shaped window that shined with sunlight brilliance.

"Mr. Beaumont receives a lot of visitors, mostly from his church friends," Diane informed up ahead. "I'm surprised you're here though."

"You know who I am?"

"You're his nephew, right?"

"That I am, ma'am."

When she reached the top of the stairs, Diane stopped to look down at him. "Mr. Madigan, I have to be honest here: your uncle doesn't speak highly of you. In fact, he regards you as the devil's son."

Kyle scratched his chin. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Knowing this, you still want to see him?"

"_Well, of course I do_. It's not every day I get the chance to share family quality time with a grouchy senior citizen who recites the bible and calls me a 'twisted-no-good-son-of-Satan-little-shit'. Precious moments there, indeed."

Diane shifted her weight to one leg. "You may find this funny, but I don't. Your uncle has a weak heart condition, Mr. Madigan. It's my priority to look after him. If I see that the conversation between you two compromises his health then I'll have to terminate your visit immediately."

"I understand," he replied with his hands raised. "I'll be a good little boy. Saint Theresa will have nothing on me."

"I _mean_ it."

Diane did an about-face and marched down a long hallway adjacent to the staircase landing. Kyle followed. Hands in his jacket, he studied the layout and noticed a series of doors in this area. They flanked both sides of the corridor. A few of them were opened, which allowed him to see a few more elderly patients. He heard the sounds of a television, coughing, and a few random conversations here and there. Some senior citizens were accompanied by their orderlies while the others were stuck in solitude. Walking down the hallway, Kyle paused when one door revealed a group of family members. They surrounded a bed. A priest stood among them and recited a passage:

"…_give them rest there in the land of the living, in thy kingdom, in the delight of Paradise, in the bosom of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, our holy fathers, from whence pain and sorrow and sighing have fled away, where the light of thy countenance visiteth them and always shineth upon them._"

"Mr. Madigan?" emerged Diane's voice.

Kyle turned from the scene. He noticed the female orderly had stopped at the end of the hallway. She stood in front of a door with a cross hung on it.

"He's in here," she announced.

Kyle observed the priest and family-in-mourning one last time. He noticed a small boy there, crying beside the bed. His mother wrapped an arm around his shoulder and gently brushed away his tears. Taking a deep breath, Kyle finally stripped his eyes away from the scene and joined Diane at the end of the hallway.

"Your uncle has already been prescribed his afternoon medication," Diane explained. "He's a bit groggy so he may not talk much."

"Oh, I sincerely doubt that. He always has something _special_ to say when his _favorite nephew in the world_ stops by, lady."

Diane gave him a cool glare before knocking on the door softly. Waiting behind her, Kyle could hear the gentle wailings of an opera singer perform from beyond the closed door. He stared at the cross hung there. Jokingly, he expected something bigger and shinier. Uncle Sky was always an avid collector of fancy religious décor. Glancing at it sideways, his hand touched the tip of the cross. Kyle suddenly froze in place.

The image of a similar-looking cross appeared in his head. There were a few drops of blood splattered on it. The cross hung on the wall of some sort of basement. Dark and cold, the air in the underground room was stale. Strangely enough, the basement looked familiar to him. He'd been there before…

"_Are you all right, Mr. Madigan?_"

The image faded from his mind at the sound of Diane's voice. Kyle blinked once and turned to her. "What? Did you say something?"

Diane's brows shifted downward. "You looked out of it just a second ago. Are you all right? Do you want to turn back?"

Kyle paused for a moment. He realized the door was opened and Diane now stood to the side. He shook his head. "I'll be fine, ma'am. I just had a brain fart."

Diane stared at him with narrowed eyes. "You can go in now."

"Thanks."

"I'll be nearby and will be checking his vital signs from my station," she warned, "Just so you know."

"Fabulous. Perhaps you can order me a cup of latte if you're not too busy eavesdropping on us?"

Without a word, Diane walked away. Kyle watched her go with a smug smile on his face. He enjoyed pushing people's buttons, especially those who acted as if they had a giant corncob up their ass. Once she disappeared beyond the hallway, though, his expression quickly changed. His jawbone set tight and both eyes were fixed at one point. Kyle entered Uncle Sky's room.

Various melodies from an opera song filled the space. It originated from a vintage record player that sat on a nightstand close to the door. At certain points of the song, the record scratched and hiccupped. Kyle shifted his eyes to the rest of the room. The room was a lot bigger than he imagined it to be. There was a dresser with an attached mirror, a few shelves stuffed with books, a television screen stuck on the wall, a guest couch, and small coffee table. It was kept neat. Overall, it was a pleasant place. Even with the faint smell of human waste, the scent of vanilla kept the air at acceptable level.

The room was well-lit thanks to two large windows that ran alongside a wall. Smack in between the windows was a bed that contained an elderly man. The sun's light bounced off his frail, thin body. The senior citizen was pushing into his late nineties. His skin, which practically clung to his bones, was as dry as leather. Warts and freckles decorated his scalp. Attached to several IVs at the wrists, the old man was bedbound. His mouth was covered by a breathing mask. In his hands, he held a cross necklace with many beads. The heart monitor quietly beeped while his beady brown eyes stared at the man who entered his room. The old man didn't blink.

"_An' He was there in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan, an' was with the wild beasts…_" Uncle Sky Beaumont spat loudly.

Kyle quietly closed the door behind him. He didn't bother to make a retort to his uncle's words. This was a typical event he had encountered many times during his younger days, back when he lived under the roof of this tyrant. His lips pursed, Kyle allowed the opera song that played in the background to fill in the silence between them. He maintained his distance by standing next to the door.

"I's never expected to see yo' face here, _boy_," the old man asserted from across the room; his voice husky. "Ya look like that devil-of-a-man that beat yo' momma ta death. Yeah, you be lookin' like yo' papa _real_ good now."

Kyle exhaled sharply. He leaned against the door with his arms crossed.

"I told yo' mamma once that he was no good for her. A real devil, he was. Any seed he bore would be a rotten one. An' I was right, wasn't I, boy?"

Uncle Sky touched the beads of his cross; his gaze was dead set on his nephew. Meanwhile, Kyle kept quiet. He expected this much. In the past, he was stupid enough to take the bait and fight back whenever Uncle Sky edged him on. It often resulted in him receiving a good beating. Because Uncle Sky had so many friends in town who tolerated that type of behavior, including authority members, he was able to get away from allegations of child abuse. But whatever. That was the past and, today, the old man was close to his deathbed. In some ways, Kyle felt sorry for the son-of-a-bitch. He was going to die a bitter and lonely man.

When the record player finally stopped Kyle took a moment to flip it. A new song played. This time, the sounds from the opera singer sounded melancholic and sorrowful.

"I prayed to God that you'd find salvation, boy," Uncle Sky continued later, "But you's still here; you's still _alive_."

"So are you, it seems," Kyle spoke at last. "You're still alive and kicking. Well, _metaphorically_ speaking anyway. I doubt you can walk on those scrawny legs of yours anymore, let alone, kick anything."

"Smart-ass." Uncle Sky snarled.

Removing his mask temporarily Sky spat on a bucket beside him. He struggled to sit up from his bed afterward. Kyle wanted to assist him but thought against it. He knew better. Eventually, the old man found the button to raise the upper part of the bed and was able to look at his nephew from a suitable vantage point.

"Why you here, boy?" Uncle Sky demanded.

"I've been asking myself that very same question," Kyle murmured quietly, more to himself than to his uncle.

At last, Kyle took a few steps into the room. He strolled to one of the large windows and pushed the thin curtain aside to take a peek at the scenery outside. He saw a large tree out on the front lawn. There was a child there too. He sat on a swing attached to one of the tree's branches. Kyle watched the boy push up and down on it, rising higher and higher.

"I wanted to visit mom's grave," Kyle finally said, in a louder tone this time.

Uncle Sky chuckled for a bit. "Yo' momma's been dead a long, long time, boy. _Now_ you come?"

At this, Kyle turned away from the window and looked at him. "I hadn't realized she was dead until a few years ago. Even then, I couldn't visit her. It was… a very complicated time in my life."

Uncle Sky rolled his eyes and muttered a few words under his breathe. Meanwhile, the sounds of the opera singer rose higher.

"Why didn't you send me a letter?" Kyle asked. "I was in training that month mom died. You could've sent me a notice at the base. I would've come."

"_Trainin_'_?_" His uncle chortled. The action caused him to violently cough. Breathing into his oxygen mask, he took a couple of deep inhales. Afterward, he finally said, "Boy, you's need to get your head screwed on straight. You weren't in no _trainin_'. That was the year they's took you."

"_They_ took me?" Kyle shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about. I graduated and headed out to the base to begin my training. Nobody took me anywhere."

Uncle Sky opened his mouth to say something. However, he had another coughing fit. Kyle noticed spilt blood on his lower lip and immediately grabbed a napkin from a box of tissues nearby. He offered one to his uncle but he slapped his hand away.

"I tried to drive the devil outta yo' soul, boy," the old man later said, breathing into his mask heavily. "Me an' the good preacher performed an exorcism after that horrific incident at the hospital-"

"Wait, hold on a minute," Kyle interrupted with a raised hand. "_An exorcism_…? You actually _performed_ an exorcism on _me_? Christ, you really are insane, old man."

Uncle Sky grabbed the closest thing within reach, a bible, and flung it at Kyle. "Boy, don' you be takin' the lord's name in vain, not in mah presence!"

Kyle dodged the book and shook his head, grinning in disbelief. The thought he had an exorcism actually _performed on him_ was too damn funny.

"I always knew you were a religious nutjob, Uncle Sky," he remarked, "I just hadn't realized _how_ much."

"Silence, boy!" ordered the old man, "This is serious. I had the priest attempt ta drive the Devil spirit outta yo' soul. You was probably too knocked out to remember much o' it, but we performed the ritual at mah basement."

"Basement…?" Kyle paused.

"At mah basement, yeah. You don' remember, boy?"

Kyle's brows pulled together. Basement. _Basement_… Yes. That's it. The basement he saw in his vision not long ago… That was where he was. The cross with the blood on it was in his Uncle's basement. He was… there. On a bed. A group of people surrounded him. There was a priest too. He remembered seeing the priest covered in ice.

Ice…

Kyle's face turned pale.

"Jus' like yo' papa," Uncle Sky resumed, his voice low, "That man had planted his evil seed unto you. And now you's carryin' the Devil inside. We's managed to put it to sleep. But… it still lives within ya. And that's why those men took you. They saw the power of the Devil and wanted to tame it for themselves, boy; to use its evil power for their own wicked ways. They's the ones who took ya."

Kyle tried to recall the other details of the basement incident but, almost immediately, a heavy sensation had taken over him. He clutched the sides of his head with both hands. His head… It felt like a thousand shards of glass had drilled themselves into the tender inner folds of his brain. The terrible pain shot from the bottom of his neck and straight up to his frontal lobe. Slightly fatigued from it, Kyle pressed himself against a wall to maintain his balance. With eyes closed, he was surprised to hear various voices speak aloud to him. He wasn't sure if the voices came from the people outside the room or a nearby television.

'_Look at you, son,' _one voice said. It was female and had a thick southern accent. '_All full of dirt and twigs and bites and lord knows what else.'_

'_I'm happy you're fightin' for yo' dream, baby_,' another voice added. Although female, this one was different; younger. '_I think you'll make a fine Air Force man.'_

'_She can't handle it_,' a child's voice chimed in. '_You'll_ _need to find another mate; someone much stronger than this. You need someone who can bear your seed. Perhaps someone of our level? Yeah?'_

'_Cold… I feel… s-so cold…' _a man's voice moaned painfully.

Uncle Sky's heart monitor beeped louder. From his bed, the old man saw his nephew clutch his head and express various degrees of pain on his face. Uncle Sky's eyes grew wild and he cackled hysterically.

"I done the good work of the Lord on you, boy," he said, choking on his own spit, "I couldn't drive out yo' Devil, but I definitely kept it from spreadin', yah?"

Despite the severe migraine, Kyle managed to look up at him. His vision blurred, he could only make out the basic features of his uncle's face. Kyle saw the old man's eyes twinkle while his chapped lips glistened with hot saliva and blood.

"You can't be spreadin' yo' seed no mo', remember?" his uncle continued and chuckled loudly at the sight of Kyle. "By mah will, the line of the wicked Devil was severed. You will die, boy, havin' no power to spread yo' disease. The sins of yo' papa have finally been undone."

As crazed as he sounded, Kyle knew exactly what he was talking about. The vasectomy. Yes. Against his will, his uncle had the procedure done to him when he was young. It was why, as much as he had wanted to, he couldn't have children with Aya. He understood now why the religious fanatic requested such an operation. Uncle Sky firmly believed he was possessed by the Devil. However, for the life of him, Kyle didn't understand why he didn't fight back and voice opposition. Or, for that matter, how Uncle Sky was able to get away with it. Surely, the doctors had objected to conducting a vasectomy on a young man, right? The memory of the whole event, sadly, remained vague in his mind.

Kyle stared at an empty space on the floor. The back of his skull throbbed harder.

"_The righteousness of the blameless shall rectify and make plain their way and keep it straight_," his uncle quoted, "_but the wicked shall fall by their own wickedness._"

The senior citizen's laughter was louder and longer now. Beads of sweat formed over his flushed face. A part of Kyle wanted to strip the IVs right out of his wrists and watch the bastard suffer. He wanted to exact his revenge; to punish the horrible man for all the ill-actions he had committed against him when he was boy. But that wouldn't make him any better, would it? Kyle forced himself to look away from the unbearable man. He was an asshole then, and he was an asshole now. Nothing changed. Knowing that, the point of being here seemed ridiculous.

The song from the record player finally stopped. Silence consumed the room. With a soft grunt, Kyle pushed off the wall and headed toward the door he came from. He had to leave. He couldn't stay here any longer. It was a mistake to come.

"_The wicked man flees though no one pursues_," Uncle Sky said after him in mockery, "_but the righteous are as bold as a lion._"

His words prompted Kyle to stop on his tracks. His back still facing the old man, Kyle kept his eyes fixated on the door ahead of him. With a firm and deep tone, he cited a quote of his own:

"_The pride of your heart has deceived you…_ _you who live in the clefts of the rocks and make your home on the heights, you who say to yourself, 'Who can bring me down to the ground?'_ "

Uncle Sky's heart monitor beeped faster. Kyle took some pleasure from finally shutting him up. But the victory was short-lived. The door flung open and Diane now appeared. Her face was colorless. Panicked, she ran to Uncle Sky's side and checked his vital readings. The lifeline, once steady and slow before, rapidly reached extreme high and low points.

"You need to leave," she ordered Kyle. "_Now._"

Without another word, Kyle did as he was instructed to do. Even when Uncle Sky screamed many profanities at him and clutched his weak heart, Kyle refused to look back. Ignoring two additional orderlies that rushed past him to assist his uncle, he continued down the hallway and reached the stairs.

By the time he was outside, the massive headache was gone and Kyle felt relieved. Smiling to himself, he wandered a few feet ahead before standing in the middle of the large front lawn. The wind blew against him and washed over his body. A few tree leaves danced about, swirling up and down. High above, a group of birds flew north. The overall scenery felt therapeutic. The smile, however, faded from Kyle's face. He quietly fell to his knees. Gazing up at the sun with watery red eyes now, he allowed himself to stay there for a few moments.

He came here for some type of closure; to cleanse his soul and be free of his uncle's ghost. But it was obvious he would never receive a resolution. _Why did he come? Why was he here?_ Not only did his plan to confront this old man backfire, but now he felt as helpless as the day he had lived with Uncle Sky.

He was truly alone in this world. No relatives. No wife. No children. _He was_ _alone._ Kyle covered his face with both hands. Too proud of a man, he refused to show anyone his tears.


	6. CHAPTER 5: Change

**Author's Note: **_Been awhile, folks! I recently had surgery and was bedridden for days. :( Also, this chapter was difficult to write. Several story elements are introduced here, back stories, and a few sensitive topics. FIRM WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD. Another thing to make clear: this story takes the stance that the Eve in PE2 was 10-11 years old, based on the information in-game and special ending. Thus, her age in this story is somewhere in early twenties. Honestly, being a fan of the Alien movie series, adult clones being grown overnight haven't been an issue for me. Still, to each his own, right? As controversial as Eve's story may be to some folks, I think she represents that strange, confusing time in any girl's life; from the first innocent crush to the first realization of female sexuality. It's a natural state of evolution. :)_

_Lastly, I love you, Maeda. D: I'm sad what they did to you in 3rd Birthday! It pains me to write you this way. Alas, I will stay true and find a way to rectify things as this story progresses. T_T_

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 5: Change<strong>

October 27, 2015 | Los Angeles, California | 12:00pm

Exhausted by her recent workout session, Eve hung up her rifle and the rest of her equipment at the weapons' compartment area of the Locker Room. She was in dire need for a shower now. Both her forehead and cheeks were flushed and damp while her clothes practically clung to her like a second layer of skin. Eve made a face at the splotches of sweat noticeable underneath her armpits. The acidic smell there was unbearable. Brushing back her long wet bangs from her eyes, her fingers became coated with the gloss of human perspiration. Disgusted by it, Eve grunted softly to herself. She sincerely doubted she'd be winning any Miss-America-awards today.

Walking down a brightly lit hallway, Eve reached the personnel section. There were a few Happy Halloween decorations pasted on the wall as well as a couple of electrical-run Jack-O-Lanterns. No surprise, the candy bowl on the counter next to her was halfway empty already, only the sugar-free stuff remained. Eve passed it by and spotted several rows of metal lockers up ahead. The showers were at the far back but she had to collect her bathroom items first. Immediately, Eve set out to find her locker.

As tired as she was, Eve was actually relieved by today's exercise. It was good to take out some steam. Granted, she was supposed to make preparations for her mission coming up. However, she couldn't sleep due to the nightmares she'd been having lately. For the past few weeks her mind had been plagued by disturbing dreams. Initially, she regarded them as a trivial matter; no different than other nightmares she had before. However, the level of intensity had grown severe recently. Many times in the middle of the night she'd abruptly wake up in cold sweat, unable to breathe.

Her nightmares… They revealed a world consumed by ice. Each time in her dream she stood in the middle of a blank snowy field that was infested by millions of people. They cried in agony; their arms stretched out to her. Paralyzed with fear, she couldn't move in her dream. She stood and watched helplessly as their skin turned to ice. Their bodies eventually cracked and shattered into a thousand pieces. Crystallized blood sparkled across the empty, pale sky. In the middle of this crimson snow stood a man. He'd been burnt to the point where he revealed only bones and rotten flesh. His back to her, he slowly turned around to face her. Eve discovered the familiarity of his eyes.

A reddish brown color, the eyes belonged to Kyle.

Whether these dreams were psychologically-related or symbolic, Eve didn't know. She was tempted to give Kyle a call to check up on him. They hadn't talked to each other for over a year so she didn't know what was going on in his life right now. However, their distance from each other wasn't mere coincidence. Admittedly, while Eve cared for the man she no longer felt as connected to him as she used to. There were a few personal issues on her part that had put a strain on their relationship.

Slowing down her pace, Eve lowered her head as she walked forward. A bulletin on the wall made her pause from her thoughts.

She spotted her name on the roster for current agents active on the field this week. Beside the list there were several articles attached to the cork board. Most of them were related to sightings of unnatural creatures and events. Eve had to smile. Some were stripped straight from the covers of tabloid magazines and contained titles that ranged from the serious to the absurd: 'Mother Turns into a Three-Headed Monster at Taco Cabana'; 'Flying Human-Sized Insect Attacks Elderly Man on Bathroom Break'; 'Government Covers Up Monster Outbreak in Nevada'; 'Homeless Man Says Hot Female Spirit Took Control of His Body'; 'Teacher Claims World was Taken Over by Large Trees and Monsters from Parallel Dimension'; 'Local Psychic Predicts a New Ice Age to Come'.

It was never a dull moment at MIST headquarters. While the general public understandably dismissed these claims Director Rupert Broderick took them seriously. For Eve, it was the same. Working here was like carrying on Aya's legacy and ensuring the survival of humankind.

The Mitochondrial Investigation and Suppression Team, or MIST for short, had formed shortly after the New York Blockade Incident of 1997. It became an additional branch of the FBI and established itself as a well-respected agency effective against NMC outbreaks. Her big sister was once a part of it. It was MIST that assigned Aya to Dryfield, where she later learned of the Neo Ark project. Now it was time for Eve to pick up the mantle and make her sister proud.

The lone woman wandered through several aisles of lockers until she finally located the one assigned to her. Sitting on the bench, Eve opened it and stared in silence at the images pasted on the metal door.

It was a large collection of posters she admired as well as photos of friends she made at MIST. There was Pierce Carradine, the technician expert who had been with the agency when it first began. He took a long hiatus from MIST when he traveled to Japan to conduct research on potential hosts of Mitochondrial Eve. Now he was back, ready to share his knowledge and assist in MIST operations. On a photo next to him was Jodie Bouquet, a weapon's expert and distributor. She was also Pierce's fiancée. Eve smiled when she observed a photo of the pair together; taken at a recent Hawaiian trip.

Several more faces and names popped up on Eve's locker door. Gary Douglas, who sadly passed away many years ago, was pasted in the middle of her photo collage with his dog. Always wearing a cowboy hat and boots, he was a gruff old man with a warm heart. Every Christmas he used to send Aya guns and ammo.

Besides his photo was Dr. Kunihiko Maeda. He was an _interesting_ fellow, to say the least. Stationed in Japan, he aided in the investigation of mitochondria since the NYC Blockade Incident. Once in awhile he'd fly to MIST headquarters to help out their science department and offer lectures. Eve had a tough time being in his company, though. While he and Aya had been close, Eve found the man to be unbearable. So obsessed with science, theory, and precision, he often forgot his human side at the door.

In addition to people she knew outside of work, Eve shared a photo collection of brief acquaintances, including Gabrielle Monsigny. With lovely locks of blond hair and fair-skin, she was the top marksman expert in the agency. Eve had mixed feelings about her. Whereas they were practically strangers today, during the time of the Twisted they were close friends. Monsigny had trained her in weaponry and was often the person she confided with. It was sad, then, that they no longer had a close relationship anymore. Each time she crossed paths with Monsigny the veteran sniper regarded her as just another MIST agent.

It was the same for Dr. Blank. The young South Korean computer-whiz assisted Agent Carradine at the Control Room and helped create the virtual-reality program in the simulator chamber. He rarely talked to her. In the previous life with the Twisted, though, he constructed a machine called the Overdrive System. It allowed her to send her consciousness, or soul, to the past and take control of a body from that time period. The intention was to change the future which, for better or worse, she successfully did.

All these memories during the time of the Twisted… And no one else shared them except for her. Well. All saved for one person. Eve paused when her hand reached for the photo nearly hidden in the corner. Kyle Madigan. It was taken days before New Year's Eve two years ago. Donning a slight beard, he wore a heavy dark coat and stood behind her at Rockefeller Center. There was a large smile on his face as he wrapped her with both his arms.

In silence, Eve turned away from the photo and quickly grabbed her bathroom necessities. She headed toward the showers.

On her way to her destination, Eve read over the contents on one of the small bottles in her hands and tried to keep her mind occupied. She didn't dare entertain the uncomfortable questions and thoughts that plagued her mind right now, especially when they concerned Kyle. In the past, she managed to keep them at bay and successfully ignored them. As soon as the nightmares began, however, those dormant thoughts resurfaced themselves and Eve found herself confronted by sensations she hadn't felt since she was a child.

Eve finally entered the shower room. The overhead speakers from the ceiling above played the soft melodies of electronic-style music. No doubt it was intended to create a soothing atmosphere. As corny as the idea was, Eve did enjoy today's music selections. Directly in front of her, in the meantime, were a series of curtained showers lined together. There were a matching number of mirrors and faucets across them. A heavy aroma of vanilla in the air and slight haze suggested the showers had been used recently. Eve amusingly considered Gabrielle as the prime suspect since the female sniper took pride in her physical appearance. Being able to relate to that herself, Eve read the contents of the bottle in her hand one more time before finally placing it on the faucet's counter.

Stripping off her clothes and placing them on the laundry basket, Eve stepped into one of the showers. Immediately, jets of warm water drenched her naked, exhausted body. It rinsed away the grime and sweat she had accumulated during her workout session. Eve arched her head slightly back and sighed softly to herself. The moisture of the shower's waters felt therapeutic against her skin. It amazed her how a simple shower could practically remove half of her daily life's stresses. At least she didn't smell like an armpit anymore. Applying liquid soap on her hands, Eve ran it across her arms and chest.

As the heat from the running waters filled the shower room, Eve found her thoughts wandering back to a series of events that led her here. At this point, it was easier recollecting things from the past than thinking about the future. Her future, after all, was as unclear as the fog that surrounded her now. Strange, since Eve always thought she had everything figured out. As a child, she was very detail-oriented and knew _exactly_ what she wanted and when to make it happen. Needless to say, it amused and surprised Aya how well keen and adaptable she was. Things had been simpler back then, of course. She had the love of her big sister and the world was safe from harm. Everything changed, though, on the day she activated her Overdrive ability.

After SWAT members stormed the church to assassinate Aya and Kyle during their wedding ceremony, her mitochondrial powers had reawakened themselves from dormancy. She tried to save Aya when she witnessed her sister take several bullets to the chest. However, her consciousness and soul accidentally reached out and took control of Aya's body. The result? Their souls clashed and Aya's soul was shattered.

Fragments of Aya's soul were scattered throughout time and space. They reemerged in the future, however, as incomplete creatures called the 'Twisted'. Constantly multiplying like a plague, they had the power to trigger wormholes and travel from one location to the next by bending time and space. Notions of compassion and love were lost on them. They desired only to return to the place of their origins, even if it meant killing everything in their path to get there.

As for Eve, her memories were lost during the soul-swap transition and she mistakenly assumed the identity of Aya until she eventually learned the truth. The loss of her big sister wasn't the only tragedy that happened that day, though. Because her consciousness resided in Aya's body, Eve's soulless remains deteriorated and split into several creatures dubbed the 'High Ones'. Products from Eve's own body, these life-forms shared her memories as well as the gift to Overdrive. Ambitious and clever, they possessed the bodies of people she cared about and used them as puppets to carry out their own devious plans.

The Twisted and High Ones; two new species born from Aya and Eve… Evolution was on their side whereas humanity was close to extinction. In a battle for supremacy, all three species were at war with each other. Because the timeline repeated itself every cycle, though, it was a never-ending battle that ultimately left a few key players a desire to put an end to the time loop. Among them was Hyde Bohr.

An attendee at the wedding, Hyde Bohr was taken over by an ambitious High One that wanted the complete annihilation of the Twisted. He had given Eve back her memories, but also made his intentions clear: he sought to wipe out both Twisted and humans alike and have the High Ones become the dominant species. He was eventually stopped by Aya, who regained her consciousness long enough to put several bullets into him. Afterward, she sacrificed her soul and offered Eve her body. It was the only way to prevent the birth of the Twisted and High Ones.

Eve sighed to herself. These bitter, painful memories… It was difficult coping with them sometimes. Many times she had to remind herself not to get overemotional. Aya had wanted her to smile and walk toward a future, after all, not remain depressed over the past. Eve scoffed at herself; at her own weakness. As the stream of water continued to pour over her body, Eve forced herself to relax a little. She brushed back the hair from her face and felt the tiny trickles of water dance across her skin. Then she ran her hands to the lower parts of her body. One hand slid between her legs to rinse off natural remnants of feminine residue there.

For a long time, Eve tried to balance her feelings between the past and present. Make no mistake; she was determined to press forward. She wanted to live her life to the fullest. However, this proved to be more difficult than she originally imagined. Many times Eve wished the timeline of the Twisted and High Ones never happened. Or, at the very least, she didn't remember it. Ignorance was bliss, after all, and her life would've been so much better without the burden of her previous memories. Instead, her life was split between the real-present and the alternate-present. It was like she lived in two worlds simultaneously. Kyle had been lucky. He only remembered Aya's death.

Kyle… She wondered what type of demons he faced. Were they similar to hers? Certainly, he must've had his own share of nightmares and torments. Why else would she dream and think about him a lot these past few weeks? Did he yearn for comfort too? It was hard to imagine Kyle ever feeling vulnerable, Eve realized. The boastful man was cocky to the point of being a jerk. Yet, she took comfort in his overconfidence. Somehow, even when the world turned upside down he'd find something clever or stupid to say. It was enough to make her feel safe.

Eve's mind conjured up the contours of his face. Rich-brown eyes. A well-defined bone structure. Broad shoulders. A lean and muscular-toned body. Kyle was a handsome man. It was no wonder why Aya took a fancy to him. There was something about him; some type of alluring charm that he emitted. It wasn't just Aya that noticed it either.

Eve paused. Before she allowed that thought to go any further, she quickly withdrew her fingers from her groin and turned off the shower.

Damn.

After properly drying herself, Eve wrapped herself with a towel and padded toward the faucet with her bare feet. She grabbed the small bottle she placed there earlier and followed the instructions. For roughly fifteen minutes she applied the substance over her hair before finally covering it with a towel and heading back to her locker.

Eve kept quiet as she sat on the bench and waited for the bottle's affects to take place. As she did, she confronted the mirror pasted at the far back of her locker again. It reflected the face of a bewildered, upset woman. At the corner of her eye, she noticed Kyle's photo. It stared back at her with a smile. Growling to herself, Eve yanked it right off the door and crushed it with a fist.

The nightmares. These thoughts. These feelings…

Truthfully, she regarded Kyle with both adoring love and unendurable dread. On days like this, Eve wondered if they were better off as strangers. She wished the feelings she had for Madigan were specific and obvious. Not that they ever were. Admittedly, when she was young, her image of him as a knight-in-shining-armor had turned into an infatuation. It was innocent crush, though, and she knew the boundaries of their relationship. But today? She was older now, a young woman. And a lot of events transpired between them during the time of the Twisted and High Ones, particularly when both of them thought she was Aya. It made her re-evaluate everything between them.

It wasn't like Eve could blame Kyle for acting the way he did. He was just as oblivious as she was about her true identity. In fact, he assumed she, in Aya's body, was the real Aya. And Kyle had contributed her lack of her memory to amnesia. As such, he acted as any husband would have done: he loved her as a lover.

Eve crushed the photo tighter in her hand.

Yes, Aya's sacrifice removed the threat of the Twisted and High Ones. Yes, the world was saved. Yes, Kyle regained his life and moved on. But for Eve, her world remained upside down. Not only did she lose her big sister, but she now had to deal with a compilation of feelings toward a man she once regarded as a mentor. The emotions she experienced with Kyle as her husband remained permanent in her mind, along with the rest of her memories. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't switch them off. One moment she was his wife and the next, his surrogate daughter again? Jesus, how does _anyone_ deal with that and not go mad? How does one move toward a future when it remains unclear and terrifying?

Again, she couldn't hate Kyle. As she pressed her forehead against the hand that clutched his photo, she had to remind herself of his innocence. Although it pained her that she, alone, remembered their brief husband-wife relationship and had to suffer for it, she couldn't let her bitterness destroy their bond. She knew the dread she felt had nothing to do with Kyle at all. It had to do with her hate for herself.

She still loved Kyle. But she no longer knew what type of love she had for him. Father? Close friend? Savior? …Lover? Shit. Perhaps she was too afraid to know the truth. Eve suspected it was probably the same for Kyle. Even though he didn't remember their time together he must've felt _something_ was off. It would explain why he remained largely absent in her life now. Perhaps his journey in finding Aya was also his way of avoiding her.

"_Boo!_"

Eve nearly flinched in her seat at the sound of the yell. She immediately turned and was confronted by a man-sized creature with a red face, large and sharp yellow teeth, and black curled horns that poked out from his head. He stood beside her with a huge sickle in his hand. Eve's first reaction was to pull out the pistol hidden inside her locker.

"Whoa! Hey! Take it easy, Eve! It's me, Pierce!" The 'creature' removed his mask and threw it on the ground along with his weapon in surrender.

Eve exhaled loudly when she recognized the voice and face. She returned the gun to its original home. "You gave me a scare there, Mr. Carradine."

"Well, everyone's allowed one good spook for Halloween." Pierce brushed back his shaggy hair with a hand and looked relieved. "Then again, given that I'm in the headquarters of monster hunters, I probably shouldn't do that anymore, huh?"

Eve chuckled in agreement and looked at Pierce. Mask aside, his attire was a bit interesting today: opened-toe sandals with khaki shorts and a white top. On his shirt read the words, 'think geek'. He was definitely going for the LA look. Eve had to wonder, though, if he ever went a day without his sunglasses.

"You all right?" he suddenly asked.

"Uh, yeah… Why, sir?"

Pierce collected his mask and plastic sickle and put them on the bench. "I kinda noticed how blue you looked a few seconds ago."

Eve attempted a smile before seeking her underwear and clothes from her locker. "I was just thinking. That's all, Mr. Carradine."

"Some serious thinking, from the looks of it," he commented back. "I, uh, hope it isn't about yesterday's exercise? In fact… that's why I'm here. I… um. I didn't get the chance to tell you how really sorry I am about yesterday. Believe me, it wasn't my idea to use your family like that."

Pierce stared at the floor, a bit embarrassed.

"Rupert insisted on it, though," he later said, "You know him… he believes MIST agents become only as strong as the pressure they can handle."

Eve smiled and shook her head. "No, no. That's okay, sir. I'm not angry at you or Mr. Broderick. I was just thinking about other… personal things."

Pierce noticed a crushed photo in her hand. He took a seat on the bench beside her. "You want to talk about it?"

Sighing, Eve shrugged her shoulders. "No. Not really, sir."

"I really wished you'd drop the formalities and call me 'Pierce' instead of 'sir', Eve." Pierce readjusted his shades and cleared his throat. "Believe it or not, we're family here. You can trust me."

Eve looked away briefly. "The last time someone told me that, he took away everyone I cared about and nearly killed me. I'd rather keep things the way they are. Sir."

"Yeesh, he sounds like an asshole… But just so you know, not everyone is like that. I'm here for you, Eve." He bent his head slightly to get a better look at Eve, to see her reaction. There was only a blank face. Not wanting to prolong the silence between them any longer, Pierce eventually asked: "Are you thinking about Aya? Is that it? Must be pretty tough filling in your sister's shoes here, huh?"

Eve returned her attention back to him. She shook her head. "Actually, sir, that's not it. And just to clarify, I didn't come here with the intentions of replacing Aya."

"Since we're on the topic then… why _did_ you come?" Smiling, Pierce shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry, I don't mean to offend you with the question, kiddo. It's just something that's been on my mind when you first walked through our doors. I knew Aya long enough to know that she wanted a normal life for you. She didn't want her kid sister getting involved in this type of a business."

Eve paused and stared distantly at the floor. "I suppose I came here because I have a power. I can't just… live my life merrily while the world goes under attack with NMCs and other threats. I came here to do what felt right."

"You've really changed," remarked Pierce, a bit surprised by her response. "You're nowhere near the scared little kid I remember from Neo Ark."

Eve laughed softly. She'd nearly forgotten Pierce was there in Dryfield. Against his superiors, he snuck out of MIST headquarters and followed Aya to aid in her mission. He was the one to crack into the organization's computers and learn about their experiments. He was also the one that led Aya to her.

"A lot has happened since that time," Eve finally said, "I've grown up a bit, I guess. I lost a lot along the way too."

Noting the low tone in her voice, Pierce clearly understood what she meant. He slid a hand over her shoulders and gave her a hug. Even when Eve slightly tensed up in reaction to his embrace, he held her.

"Aya was an amazing woman. It was a privilege working with her, you know? I feel the same for you too, Eve. Aya may be gone, but I can definitely see her strength in you. She lives on through your spirit and courage. Remember that."

Eve stared at him for a moment. A corner of her lip briefly edged upward.

"One of these days, when you're ready, you'll have to tell me more about the Twisted and High Ones." Pierce removed his arm. "It sucks my memories, along with everyone else's, got wiped out during the timeline shift. Still, the fact I remember Aya at all must mean something."

"What do you mean?"

Again, Pierce re-adjusted his shades. "Well… According to you, Aya's sacrifice should've erased her entire existence in the timeline we're living today, yeah?"

Eve confirmed with a nod.

"You believe we are now living in an alternative timeline, one where your body never existed and Aya's soul was gone along with the Twisted and High Ones. Correct?"

"That's right."

"But… don't you think it's odd that you're still here?"

"What do you mean?"

"You were Aya's clone, Eve. Whether we're living in an alternative timeline or a parallel dimension, either way you shouldn't be here. You exist _because_ of Aya. Equally important, the world still remembers Aya from the NYC Blockade Incident and Neo Ark project. If she was totally wiped out from our timeline, then Melissa would've taken over New York because Aya wouldn't have been there to stop her. And Neo Ark, itself, wouldn't have happened at all because those creatures came from her blood samples. This can only tell me two things…"

"And that is…?"

"That either time can simultaneously exist in the past, present, and future or…" He stared at Eve. "…Aya's fate has yet to be determined."

Eve's eyes widened. "You mean…?"

"Exactly. Aya may still exist in _our_ timeline today. Granted, Aya's actions prevented the rise of the Twisted and the High Ones, but she may have also changed other aspects of our current timeline to leave it open-ended to other possibilities."

"So Aya could still be out there…" Eve responded in a slow voice, mostly to herself. She smiled.

News of this nature definitely gave her an ounce of hope to cling to. While she had accepted Aya's fate, there was something amiss. Many times Eve felt a presence over her. It was a presence that was familiar and comforting. Staring up at the ceiling, Eve's mind immediately wandered back to the last words Aya left her: '_What led you here was hope for tomorrow… Smile and walk toward the future. I'll be watching over you…_'

Could there have been more to Aya's final words, Eve wondered. Could she be the presence that watched over her during those lonely, brutal nights? Eve paused from her thoughts when she noticed a grim look on Pierce's face.

"What is it?"

Pierce didn't immediately reply back. Instead, he sighed to himself and removed his glasses. It was the first time Eve ever saw his eyes. They were hazel.

Pierce began to wipe his glasses with the bottom of his shirt.

"I'd like to know more about your Overdrive ability some time," he finally said without answering her question. "The ability you invoked was a response to a traumatic experience. If that's the case, then there's no reason to believe you can't re-summon it again, in under safer circumstances, hm?"

Eve didn't comment back. She wasn't entirely sure if it was a good idea. It was because of her Overdrive power that Aya was gone. The last thing she wanted was to possess such a terrible power within her again. In fact, she refused to unleash the other talents her body harbored _because_ she didn't want to hurt anymore people, whether intentionally or accidentally.

Pierce noticed the look on her face. "It'll take you some time to embrace your powers, Eve. I know that. Aya was very reluctant at using her gifts as well. She didn't want to be what Melissa became."

"Melissa…" Eve murmured. "Yes, I read all about the NYC incident of 1997 from our databases. But what exactly happened to her? Aya rarely talked about it to me. It always made her sad."

"Melissa's mitochondria took over her body. She lost her will against it. Aya probably didn't want to talk about it because she felt guilty. She failed to save Melissa and had no choice but to kill her."

Eve bit her lip.

"You're worried the same thing will happen to you too, aren't you?" Pierce realized. He shook his head. "No, you don't need to be concerned about your mitochondria, Eve. Melissa was a special case because she was emotionally and physically vulnerable. Her life's stress and the medication she constantly took completely lowered her defenses for a take-over."

"It's more reason for me to be careful and not to take too many chances, then."

"While I agree with what you're saying, I also don't think you should bury your abilities either. Aya may have had a hard time coping with her powers, but she knew they were the only things standing in the way of a NMC takeover." Pierce put on his glasses. When he spoke again his voice was soft. "One of these days you're going to have to confront your fears and use your powers to save the people you love."

Eve stared at her feet.

"And who knows," he continued later, "perhaps by decoding your Overdrive ability I can figure out a way to save your big sis."

She looked up at him again. Something in the tone of his voice slightly alarmed her. He sounded concerned. Or afraid? With his glasses covering his eyes now it was difficult to know for sure. Regardless of which, Pierce had a point. While the idea was too dangerous to consider, Eve had to confront her Overdrive ability again. It was inevitable, especially if it meant saving Aya's lost soul.

"I won't ask you to do this right now," Pierce added soon after, "only when you're ready. Ok, Eve?"

She slowly nodded in agreement.

"Good." Pierce stood and stretched out his arms. "I should get going. I promised I'd take Jodie out for lunch. I can't keep the lady waiting." He paused and glanced at Eve. "Hey, you wanna join us? We're having burritos."

"No, it's okay. I'll pass. You two should enjoy yourselves, sir. Besides, I have to get my things together."

"Oh yeah, you need to get ready for your new mission," Pierce realized. "I hear it's gonna be rough. Dr. Maeda will be coming along to assist you. His flight will be landing six hours from now so you probably won't see him until tomorrow morning."

"I'm looking forward to it…" Eve's voice sounded flat.

"What? You got something against the man?" Pierce noticed the blank expression Eve gave him. He laughed. "Hey, I know Dr. Maeda is a bit… _out there_."

"That's putting it mildly." She rolled her eyes. "Each time I see him I feel like he wants to stick me inside a test tube and do all sorts of fetish experiments on me. I don't know how Aya even liked the man to begin with."

"Well, he used to be shy and quiet. I guess over the years he's gotten a bit… desperate? I mean, let's face it… the man's destined to die a virgin. Sooner or later, a man loses his marbles if he hasn't been laid."

"That's disgusting."

He shrugged. "Hey, I'm jus' saying how it is. There are two things a man values in life: food and getting inside someone's panties. We're a very goal-oriented species, you know." Pierce grinned, speaking with a proud voice.

"Gross."

"As if you women are any different!"

"We aren't sex craved maniacs."

"_Riiiight._ The only difference between our genders is that yours is cleverer at hiding it. Even from a physical standpoint, your sexual feelings are concealed while ours manifest themselves for the whole damn world to see." Chuckling to himself, Pierce later said, "Anyway, speaking about hook-ups… I nearly forgot to ask, have you met your new partner yet?"

Eve blinked. "What?"

When he noticed Eve's confused expression, Pierce explained, "Rupert assigned a partner for you on this mission."

"_Really?_ I didn't know that."

Pierce scratched the back of his head. "Heh, leave it to Rupert to always keep his agents on their toes with unexpected news."

"I'll say…"

It was definitely a shock, but also a pleasant surprise, Eve thought. She'd been with MIST for a few years but had worked solo throughout all her missions. Admittedly, it was a bit lonely and she admired all the agents who had developed strong bonds through their partnerships. At last, she would be paired up with someone. Perhaps Rupert paired her up with someone of remarkable talent that equaled her own? Like Gabrielle?

"So who is she?" she immediately asked.

"Apparently, _he's_ just been transferred to MIST. He'd been with the NYPD unit for a few years previously. Now he's with us. However… he's a bit on the green side, so go easy on the rookie."

"A _rookie_?" Eve made a face. "Wait. My first partner is… a rookie?"

"Hey, don't look at me with that face, kiddo. This could be yet another test from the great-and-wonderful Rupert."

Eve's shoulders sagged. "A test…"

"Well, _yeah_." Pierce chuckled and then added, "Rupert has a habit of temporarily pairing up mid-level agents with first-level ones. He does this to determine how well a mid-level agent can operate with potential setbacks."

"Figures." Eve crossed her arms and kept silent.

"Hey, kiddo, cheer up." Pierce lightly jabbed her on the arm. "If you do well with this rookie then Rupert will definitely pair you up with an awesome partner. I hear Gabrielle is up for grabs. Her partner was diagnosed with severe leukemia last week so he's turning in his badge pretty soon."

While that particular news was certainly grim and depressing, Eve couldn't say she was completely sad about it either. The chance to work with Gabrielle again and to possibly regain their forgotten friendship was too incredible to miss. She just needed to keep her rookie partner in check and hope they got along until the mission was over.

"When do I meet him?"

"Some time today." There was a long pause. "I gotta warn you, Eve, he's a handful. Even Rupert is having a tough time with him."

"Oh goody…"

Pierce patted her on the back. "I'm sure it'll be all right. In any account, I should let you go. Be sure to pack some heavy-duty stuff. I'd hate for you to enter combat in clothes that practically tear apart when you're out there."

Eve frowned.

"Well… See ya."

After collecting his Halloween costume, Pierce waved a 'good-bye' and strolled out of the Locker Room. Eve watched him go. In spite of herself, she found Pierce to be a likeable and kind man. Perhaps one day he would give her a good reason to trust people again. Trust was hard to come by these days, especially for her. Not only had she been born from manipulative people who intended to use her, but Hyde Bohr taught her the terrible price for placing trust in the wrong person. Hopefully Pierce would prove him wrong. Only time would tell.

Once the 'clack' sound of the Locker Room's door was heard Eve realized she was alone again. Turning, she stared at the reflection on her mirror. A new mission. A new partner. And possibly a new chapter in her life. Change was definitely in the air. She sensed it, or rather, her mitochondria did. The same thing had happened to Aya. Several times Aya told her that her mitochondria awakened and heightened in strength in the wake of a major change. Now it was her turn. Whether the horrific dreams and upcoming mission were related, she needed to be ready for anything.

Eve removed the towel from her head with a look of determination on her face. The mirror revealed a new hair color: raven black. It was a different color for a different person. While Eve was definitely determined to carry on Aya's mission to protect the human race, she wasn't her. Nor did she want to settle and simply be Aya's replacement. Eve was going to be Eve. Briefly, she remembered a few important words spoken to her on the day of the wedding. To this day, she never forgot them:

_You don't have to be anyone else. Eve. I want you to live your own life…_

Eve looked at her hand and slowly unfolded her fingers. She stared at the crushed photo of Kyle. He was the one who told her those words. It was his way of setting her free, of letting her pursue a path of her own making. The memories of him were still locked in her mind, along with the mixed emotions. Still, Eve valued his words and now wanted to press forward and embrace whatever lay ahead. It was time for change. It was time for a new Eve Brea.


	7. CHAPTER 6: Trick or Treat

**Author's Note:** _Yay, we've reached the final chapter of 'Phase 1: Hibernation'! (does the happy dance as she listens to the soundtrack of 'Aliens') I'm excited to end this section of the story with this chapter. It provides insight on a lot of things. Researching topics like the mitochondria was also fun. In fact, most of the information here is based on actual facts, including paternal mtDNA. I've also referred to the PE book (as opposed to the movie) as well. On a minor note: to anyone who is a fellow 'Aliens' fan, yes, I named 'Airman Vasquez' after 'Private Vasquez'. He's, like, her great ancestor or something. XD_

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 6: Trick or Treat<strong>

October 27, 2015 | San Antonio, Texas | 4:30pm

Dressed in faded jeans, an unbuttoned denim jacket with a brown graphic-tee underneath, and short-heel cowboy boots, Kyle sat at the patio of a Mexican restaurant with his feet up on top of the table. The eatery ran alongside the River Walk, which was a long stretch of man-made river that connected most essential parts of downtown San Antonio, including the River Center mall. He had watched a movie earlier there and now spent the rest of his afternoon eating beef fajitas while waiting for his informant to arrive. The crowd around him was thick and lively while the air was consumed by the scents of exotic perfumes and hot food plates. In the background, the sounds of proud trumpets, guitars, violins, and singing emerged from a group of mariachis nearby. Kyle smiled when a young girl presented a few Dia de los Muertos sugar skulls up for sale. He bought a few and made sure to leave extra money for her.

Admittedly, Kyle enjoyed his trip to the Alamo city. The people were friendly and the food was great. Originally stationed at Lackland Air Force Base, his visit to San Antonio had given him a large dose of nostalgia. The Tower of Americas still stood tall while his favorite restaurant, Pico de Gallo, continued to serve the best carne guisada in town. And his favorite basketball team, the Spurs, was on a winning streak despite a shaky start this year. Still, many things had changed during his long absence. There were a lot of unrecognizable buildings as well as new expansions to familiar ones. He also noticed a few places he once enjoyed in the past were gone now. How sad.

It was a Saturday. As always, the flow of tourists was at full force, along with the street beggars, hustlers, and church volunteers who asked for donations. Among the mix of traffic, however, were large packs of Air force and Army personnel who came to enjoy their weekend. Claudia didn't go into the details of who his contact was; only that he or she would meet him at this restaurant before five o' clock. Highly suspecting his contact was among the military workforce that roamed the streets of downtown San Antonio, Kyle kept an eye out for any uniformed man or woman that crossed his path. Meanwhile, he checked his phone for messages.

There were a few missed calls and texts; perhaps during the time he was at the movies. No surprise, there was a collection of messages from people he didn't care to speak to for awhile, mainly from the new agency he was currently employed under. Unbeknownst to Claudia, he already worked with a new group of people. In fact, he was an operative for the newly appointed Secretary of Defense now. Still, the Major didn't need to know that. In many ways, being classified as a rogue agent by the CIA and other intelligence-related organizations had its advantages. He could play all sides of the field and learn all the major key players and schemes better this way.

Scrolling down the list of messages, it was tempting to answer a few. Still, Kyle had made it clear to the Secretary of Defense about his temporary leave of absence since the last time they chatted. The United States would have to live without him for a week, especially when his trail had gone hot. Kyle continued to go down the list of callers until he reached the last number.

His mouth partway opened and he felt his heart skip a beat. Never in a million years did he expect to find this number among his list. Briefly, he rechecked the date and time of the caller and confirmed it took place today. My god, it had been so long since they last talked. Immediately, he dialed the number and waited until someone picked up.

"_Kyle?_" a female voice finally answered.

It took a few shaved seconds for him to spew words from his mouth.

"Eve…" He smiled. "I just realized I got a call from you earlier today. Sorry I missed it, princess."

"_That's okay. I was taking a shower and getting packed for a trip. I'm… glad you called me back._"

"Of course, Eve. This is certainly unexpected."

Eve Brea. The child he and Aya saved and adopted. She wasn't a child anymore, of course. The clone of Aya had acquired a fully grown, healthy adult body. She looked somewhere in her early twenties now, which psychologically matched her age.

"_Yeah, it has been a long time_…" Her words arrived slow and soft, as if she were uncertain. "_I should call you more often, at least to keep in touch._"

Staring at his wedding band, Kyle tried not to get lost in Eve's voice. And yet… it was the same voice Aya once possessed. For him, it was difficult seeing or talking to Eve. She reminded him of Aya all the time. He suspected Eve knew this and, like him, kept her distance. Although, he felt there was something else too. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Sorry I haven't called you much either," Kyle said at last, "I figured you needed time to yourself, to get your own life together."

"_I appreciate that. Still. You're the only family I have in this world. I want to make sure we never become strangers._"

There was a hint of uneasiness in her voice. _Strangers_. Yes, that's what they had become to each other. Kyle didn't know how to feel about that. He still cared about Eve and still saw her as the little girl he helped raise alongside Aya. It bothered him they no longer had a strong connection anymore. Whereas the old Eve would've openly embraced him, this new Eve was estranged and kept a lot to herself. In fact, she avoided eye contact and never initiated a hug during their reunions. Was she uncomfortable with him? Perhaps one day he'd ask her what was wrong. Somehow, they needed to salvage what was left of their relationship. Aya would've wanted that.

"_How has your search gone?_" Eve continued from the other line. Her voice was quiet when she added, "_Have you found eternity yet?_"

Eternity… Kyle halfway smiled. "Not yet. But I'm getting closer to it. And you? How have you been, princess? Better yet, how's life with MIST?"

"_I've adjusted well to it. I've picked up on a lot of tips on how to make myself a more efficient NMC hunter._"

MIST. NMC hunter. It still shocked him. Granted, he told her a long time ago to follow her own path; to be her own person. At the same time, however, he knew how much Aya inspired her. Eve wanted to grow up and be just like her. Now she was following her big sister's steps. It was hard to believe how far little Eve had grown. Little Eve? Kyle chuckled to himself. No. He had to stop thinking of her as a child. She was a grown woman now.

"_I'd like to talk more about it_," Eve later said, a bit quieter, "_But… this wasn't why I called you, Kyle…_"

"Oh? What's wrong, Eve? Is something a matter?"

Silence.

"Eve? Sweetie?"

"_I've been having a lot of horrible dreams lately_," Eve confessed. "_And they involve… you._"

Kyle opened his mouth, as if to say something. He fell silent afterward.

"_Aya meant a lot to both of us_," resumed Eve. "_We were a family, the three of us. I know she wanted me to live my life, to strive for a future than get lost in the past. However… she wanted the same for you too, Kyle._"

"I… don't understand what you're trying to tell me, Eve."

There was a lot of seriousness and desperation in Eve's tone. He'd never heard her talk this way to him before, not even to Aya.

"_Be careful, Kyle. I know you want to see Aya again. I know you'll do anything to save her. But I'm afraid this may develop into an obsession and you won't realize how deep you've gone until it is too late. The nightmares I have…_"

"Look, I will be all right," Kyle cut her off. "They're just dreams anyway."

"_I know but…_"

"It's my life, Eve, my choice. I've made up my mind to find Aya, to bring her back to us."

"_Even if it costs you your own soul?_" challenged Eve, "_Can you honestly tell me Aya would've wanted that?_" She sighed on the other line. "_I'm sorry, Kyle. I didn't mean to get upset. And I don't want to stop you. But don't you understand? I don't want to lose you either. I don't want you to lose yourself…_"

Kyle took a deep swallow. "I'll be careful, Eve."

"_The nightmares I've been getting… They're disturbing. The last time I felt this way was when Aya… died._"

"So you think these are premonitions?" When Kyle heard an uncomfortable pause from the other line he added: "Premonitions of what, exactly?"

"…_Of the world ending in ice,_" she said at last.

Kyle felt a shiver run down the stretch of his back. Briefly, he wondered if she was seeing the events that would take place in Alaska. Before he could inquire about it, though, he heard a voice address him from behind.

"Lieutenant Madigan?"

Kyle turned. Beside him was a lean, tanned-skinned man. Young, he was dressed in a light-blue buttoned top with dark navy-blue bottoms that were ironed to a sharp edge. It was the standard Air Force uniform. Kyle cocked a brow. The man looked as if he came straight out of high school.

"I'm Senior Airman Pepper Vasquez, but you can call me Pepper, sir," he introduced himself and removed his hat. Tucking it under his arm, he ran a hand across his evenly shaved head. "I believe we have an associate in common, Lieutenant? Someone that wanted me to meet you?"

Kyle blinked when he realized who this was. To Eve, he said, "I have to go now, princess. We'll talk more about this later. Okay?"

"_Kyle…_"

"I promise we'll talk again."

"…"

He heard the line go dead. The sound of it left a sour taste in his mouth. A part of him wanted to call her back, if only to reassure her that everything was going to be fine. Yet, his informant was here and he needed to get straight to business. He had to settle this thing with Eve later.

"You're a little young, aren't you?" Kyle noted as he put away his cell phone.

"I'm eighteen, sir."

"Jesus. Claudia sent you? Are you even potty trained?"

Pepper gave Kyle a stiff look. He kept his cool, however, and took a seat across from Kyle. His movements were soundless and precise. "I may not look like much, sir, but I'm a killer inside the cockpit of a helicopter. Or any plane for that matter."

Kyle nodded back without saying a word. Jokes aside, he knew this kid meant business. No doubt he had to be incredible if Claudia was already recruiting him into the agency. Tilting his head slightly to the side, Kyle studied Pepper further.

The kid's large, almond-shaped eyes were the color of hazel. They stood as a sharp contrast against his mocha-colored skin. His lips were thin and a dark mole decorated the far side of his right cheek. He was short, but the way he carried himself was quite impressive. With his head held high and his voice loud and clear, Kyle could tell this boy was very comfortable in his shoes.

"Got family?" he asked.

"No, sir, both my parents died serving in Iraq. I was their only child."

Kyle was sad to hear that. Nevertheless, he was grateful Pepper had no ties to the world anymore. The CIA tended to use those types of things to their advantage.

"Stationed here?"

"At Lackland Air Force Base, sir. I rank first in my class."

"Impressive."

"I understand you ranked top in your class when you served at Lackland too, Lieutenant. From what I've been told, you dominated the sky until you switched over to the telecommunications department. You were a bit of a maverick, Claudia tells me."

"That was a long time ago, a _very_ long time ago."

Grinning, Kyle took a bite from one of his beef fajitas and reminisced a bit of his past. He'd entered the Air Force with the sole intentions of becoming a combat pilot. Like so many men, he sought glory and praise. However, the pay grade was better as a telecommunication specialist and he learned all of the state-of-the-art technology needed to gather intelligence. The career switch ultimately made him a valuable commodity for Claudia, who quickly recruited him into the agency. His qualifications and talent was the reason why he'd been chosen to work for the President. It was no surprise that Claudia declared him to be the 'perfect soldier'.

With a nod, Kyle motioned toward the plate in front of him. "Want some, Pepper? They're really good here. Damn best Mexican food I've had in a long time. Help yourself to whatever you want. It'll be my treat."

"No, thank you, sir. I'm fine."

"Suit yourself." Kyle wiped his mouth with a napkin and sipped some water. "So do you have what I need?"

The young man removed a USB from his pant's pocket. Taking one of the table napkins, he concealed it and handed it over. Kyle wanted to laugh.

"No need to be extra cautious with our little get-together, kid," Kyle said as he received the USB. "Claudia is pretty good at setting up private gatherings without attracting uninvited guests. You should see her arrange a bachelor party."

Pepper scratched his nose. "Sorry, Lieutenant."

"No worries." Kyle raised the USB device at eye level. Without taking his eyes off of it, he asked, "And my uniform and identification card?"

"Those should be in your hotel room right now, sir, along with a few other items Claudia sent your way."

"Fabulous." Kyle tucked the USB into the chest pocket of his jacket. "So what can you tell me about this mission, Pepper?"

"You'll fly out with my squadron tomorrow, sir. Our destination is St. Matthews Island. However, because that area may be too hot we'll be landing in an adjacent island. There'll be others with us too, not just the Air Force. Apparently, the agency doesn't want this to turn into another NYC incident, especially if the Leviathan intersects."

"A joint military operation, huh…" Kyle realized quietly to himself and stroked the bottom of his chin.

Any time other military branches were called in that usually signaled bad news. This wasn't a simple in-and-out operation. They were headed to war where the stakes were high. Briefly, Kyle watched a boat pass along the path of the river next to them. All smiles, the passengers laughed and took pictures. He sighed. He didn't plan to get too involved on this mission. After he acquired what he needed, he was out of there. Still…

"And the White Queen?" he finally asked; his eyes on an adorable young couple. "Do you know anything about her?"

Pepper shrugged. "Claudia never went into the details with me, sir, mainly because there have only been rumors about her existence."

"Rumors…" Kyle repeated and returned his attention back to Pepper. "Care to elaborate on them?"

"Well, there's a big claim that all the research being conducted in that underwater facility is tied to a female specimen dubbed the White Queen." Pepper crossed one leg over the other. "That's all I know really. The rest of your mission's details are provided in your report so hopefully that'll shed more light for your investigation."

"And the Leviathan? Any new intel on that creature?"

"Negative, sir. The CIA even looked at past records of the region to determine if the creature had been spotted there before. There were no reports. Maybe this is more reason to believe it's a product of the base's experiments?"

"Perhaps…" Kyle quietly tapped the tips of his boots together on the table. "By the way, Claudia mentioned there are a group of agents assigned to this mission. I assume you'll be working with them."

"No. I've been assigned to monitor and record the Leviathan in action. Honestly, I don't know what their mission is, sir, or location." Pepper's rigid face suddenly relaxed and he broke out with an unexpected grin. "But word has it that they're some pretty bad-ass motherfuckers, if you don't mind my saying, sir. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, right?"

Kyle nodded. "Genetically enhanced soldiers, correct? Yes, I am aware of them. The military has been conducting those types of experiments even before the NYC incident, all with the hopes of creating the so-called 'super soldier'. Although, the last time I checked, it wasn't a perfected procedure. There were side-effects caused by the Y-chromosomal Adam."

"Y-chromosomal Adam…?"

Kyle cocked a brow when he noticed the puzzled look on the young man's face. "You need to crack open a Biology book someday, kid. You don't know what the hell I'm talking about? Do you even know what mitochondria are?"

"Enlighten me, sir."

Inwardly, Kyle had to smile. Pepper's words were neutral and polite, but it still had a 'fuck-you' vibe. He had to give the young man kudos for holding his own.

"Mitochondria are basically cellular power plants," he explained. "They were once parasites, until they fused with human DNA. They provide human cells the energy needed to perform certain tasks, like growing fingers, dicks, and other human evolutionary shit. People maternally inherit the Eve the moment they're born."

"So where does Y-chromosomal Adam come into play?"

"The Adam appeared many thousands of years after Mitochondrial Eve emerged. We still don't know much about it, other than a father's mtDNA, or the Adam, is found in the sperm. The paternal mitochondria inheritance among humans appears far less, if at all. The transmission of paternal mtDNA gets lost during the egg fertilization stage, you see." Kyle stopped himself. He chuckled out loud. "My apologies if that's a mouthful to swallow. Biology was never my cup of tea either."

"I'll say, sir." Pepper slightly shifted in his seat. "So long story short: everyone inherits the Mitochondrial Eve, but not the Adam because it gets cut off during sexual reproduction."

"That's pretty much it. You catch on fast."

A group of mariachis stopped by their table and Kyle politely waved them away. Afterward, he took a long drink from his glass of water and observed all types of males that crossed their path, from young to old. The y-chromosome was a part of them, passed down from father to son. Yet, their gender was still dominated by the Eve. No matter what, they were at her mercy. It slightly disturbed him.

"There've been numerous predictions that claim men will become an extinct race," Kyle informed a bit bitterly. "Our sperm count isn't as high as it used to be and, already, the science community has theorized we'll ultimately be replaced by evolved women with an Adonis chromosome that grants them unisex reproductive abilities. They call it the Adam's Curse. Crazy, huh?"

Pepper blinked. "That… certainly is a doomsday scenario, sir."

"It certainly is. First, our paternal mtDNA gets cut off during the fertilization process. And now our seeds have deteriorated with each generation of males."

"It's almost as if evolution has selected us for extinction."

"Evolution?" Amused, Kyle raised a brow. "Maybe it's something else, kid."

"Eve?" Pepper shook his head. "Knowing all of this, it makes me wonder why the military is invested in the Adam at all then. It doesn't seem to be as powerful as the Eve."

"I wouldn't underestimate the Adam just yet. In Japan, the paternal mitochondria of a man named Toshiaki were able to stop the birth of an ultimate being. Toshiaki's sperm, used to impregnate the Eve in Japan, contained the Y-chromosomal Adam. In a revolt, the Adam rebelled against the Eve since she intended to wipe out all males in the 'new order'. As a result, the offspring kept switching between male and female genders until it eventually died."

"I'm guessing that's why the Eve in New York artificially inseminated herself with specially engineered sperm."

Kyle smiled. "Very good. I underestimated you, kid. You've done your homework. And you're correct. The Eve in New York felt threatened by the Adam and wanted to prevent another uprising."

Pepper kept quiet for awhile. When he addressed Kyle again his face was unreadable. "The side-effects you mentioned earlier in those tests that involved the Adam, sir… What were those, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Aside from the body rejecting the alterations and having a breakdown on the cellular level, the test subjects had a tendency of losing their heads."

"Excuse me, sir?"

"They went mad," Kyle pointed out flatly. "I witnessed a lot of these experiments related to the paternal mitochondria firsthand. Shortly after the New York incident, the military became heavily invested with the Adam on account of Toshiaki. They wanted to create a biological weapon to use against a future Eve outbreak."

"The military basically wanted to fight mitochondria against mitochondria…" Pepper grasped at last.

"Exactly. However, I don't think they really thought things through. They opened Pandora's Box. While the test subjects, at first, were fine and exhibited strength and speed, as days went by they displayed other peculiar symptoms."

"Which were…?"

"Extreme mood swings. Hand tremors. Slurred speech. Many of them also complained about feeling cold all the time or a terrible itch throughout their body. I witnessed a few of the poor bastards slice themselves open, just to get rid of the itch."

Kyle briefly stopped. He tried hard not to remember all the men who lost themselves to those mad experiments. Whether it was Mitochondrial Eve or the Y-chromosomal Adam, to Kyle, it was all unpredictable and dangerous. He massaged the temple of his head, feeling a slight headache coming. Pausing for a moment, he retrieved his bottle of pills from his denim jacket.

"Of course, the worse symptom was paranoia." Kyle took three capsules and swallowed them in one chug. "They saw things that weren't really there. At that point, these men reacted on raw instinct and were considered lethal. A former associate of mines, who had his mtDNA altered, took out an entire squad of marines. Even when the squad filled his body with enough ammo to put down ten elephants, he didn't feel a damn thing. He just kept killing everything in sight with his bare hands. It took a fucking missile to the face to put him down for good and, _even then_, they had to fry his remains to prevent possible regeneration."

Pepper grew quiet; his face turned a shade paler than before. "I assume that finally did it."

"No. Not really. He was dead. And _un_dead."

"Sir?"

"Simply put: his body was alive, but there was nobody home inside. He lacked a 'soul'. In the end, they put him, along with the rest of the poor bastards on the Golem project. These undead soldiers were given cyber modifications so that they could be better controlled. They had to also be encased in ice to preserve their strength and other abilities, however limited they were." Kyle crossed his arms behind his head. "I've no idea if they fixed this problem and, honestly, it worries me that they're sending these 'super soldiers' on this mission. The situation with the Leviathan is bad enough as it is. We don't need to deal with any more wild cards in this game."

"That must be why you're being sent in," Pepper finally said. His shoulders slightly tensed up. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Lieutenant, but weren't you a part of the Golem project yourself?"

Kyle stared at him for a moment. A sly grin crossed his face. "Has Claudia been telling you shit about me?"

Pepper shook his head. "No, sir. But I've heard a lot of hearsay from the other members of the CIA. Supposedly, you were given genetic alterations. You're also the only one who didn't 'lose your head'."

"It's nice to know I'm still the talk of the town."

Pepper was quiet for awhile. Afterward, he said, "So…?"

"So what?"

"So is any of this true, sir?"

Kyle cocked his head to the side. "What do you think?"

The young man's face flushed and Kyle could immediately tell he was frustrated with him. He resisted the urge to laugh.

"If you must know, Airman Vasquez," Kyle replied at last, "I wasn't a part of the Golem project. Nor did I receive any genetic treatments. However, I _was_ among a small sample of men selected as the control group for the Y-chromosomal Adam experiments. As far as I'm concerned, I haven't lost my head yet. Well, unless you count that one time I was so wasted that I slept with a three-foot-high, one-legged stripper named 'Bambi'. Quite a wild night, that was."

Pepper ran a hand across his scalp. Then he asked: "I know this is inappropriate… but can you tell me if they did anything to you during these experiments?"

"As I said before, my group's involvement was strictly as the control group. The scientists wanted to investigate the natural state of the Adam, not to manipulate it."

"So why did they choose you then?"

At this, Kyle stared at his boots. An unreadable look was on his face. "Apparently, it's because I have paternal mtDNA traced in my body."

Pepper frowned. "Wait… Didn't you just tell me that paternal mtDNA transmission is impossible? That it gets lost during embryonic implantation?"

"I did. But there've been a few cases, very rare ones mind you, where remnants of the sperm, notably its tail, remain and fuse with the egg. As a result, it leaves behind its paternal mtDNA to the host. It happened in Toshiaki's case. And it happened to a twenty-eight-year-old man many years ago who was found to have a recombination of both Adam and Eve in his muscle tissues."

"And it happened to you too it seems. You inherited the Adam."

"Yeah. From my father, obviously. The paternal mtDNA is traced all over my body. Even more, there are large evident traces of it as opposed to minimal paternal leakage, which is often the case. According to the doctors, this has never happened before."

The sound of a loud squeal temporarily distracted Kyle. He turned and saw a young boy being lifted high into the air before settling on his father's shoulders. The sun shined brightly above the pair and, for a moment, Kyle's heart ached. Father and son. God, to have a child; to leave behind a beautiful legacy… It pained him that he wouldn't have that privilege. Similarly, it upset him that, if the scientists were right and things continued down this evolutionary course, there'd be no more fathers or sons in the future.

Underneath his breath, Kyle whispered: "_I had an inheritance from my father… It was the moon and the sun… And though I roam all over the world… The spending of it's never done…_"

"Excuse me, sir?"

Kyle blinked and returned back to the world at the sound of Pepper's voice. Scoffing at himself, he quickly apologized. "Sorry. It's just something I remember from Ernest Hemingway."

"The Y-Chromosomal Adam…" Pepper began, "I admit, sir, it's a lot more adamant than I originally gave it credit for. If the super soldiers being sent have had their mtDNA altered and everything went along okay, then they could serve as the biological weapons against Eve. Right?"

"Yeah, let's hope so." Kyle didn't sound convinced. That aside, he removed his wallet from his back pocket and left a fifty-dollar bill on the table. He glanced up at the young man. "I wish we could talk more about this, Pepper, but I really think we should get ready for tomorrow's operation."

"Yes, sir, you're right. We should get going."

Kyle took his legs off the table and stood. Honestly, he was surprised at Pepper. Unlike so many airmen, the young pilot was fascinated by other things beyond flying. He seemed to be on top of this mitochondria business and had an inquisitive mind. In many ways, Pepper reminded Kyle of himself. Inwardly, he smiled.

"I am not sure if Claudia has already told you this," Kyle asserted, "but after this moment we are complete strangers, yeah? We never met."

"I understand, sir."

Kyle stared at the young man. Concern washed over his face. "You realize you are going to get a serious crash course on NMC 101 tomorrow, right? I'd hate for anything to happen to a young man like you so stay frosty and alert at all times. Got it?"

"Yes, Lieutenant." Pepper nodded. Then he became silent.

With an unreadable look on his face, the pilot removed a pen from his chest pocket and wrote something on the napkin. He passed the note to Kyle. Curious, Madigan read what was written and realized it was a radio frequency code and codename.

As far as Claudia was concerned, Senior Airman Pepper Vasquez fulfilled his duty and this was the end of their interactions together. Still, it relieved Kyle to know Pepper felt differently and that he now had an ally on his side. Given the dangerous nature of this mission, he needed all the help he could get.

"I never gave you that, sir," Pepper told him with a slight smirk on his face.

Kyle laughed. "No, kid, you didn't."

* * *

><p>When night fell over the city of San Antonio, Kyle was back at his hotel room. Previously, he had spent the early evening hours at the hotel's lounge downstairs, playing somber tunes in a piano while drinking several shots of vodka. An attractive brunette woman eventually had accompanied him and gave him a blowjob at the restrooms. Halfway into the act, though, he found himself unable to stay in the mood. Too lightheaded and too consumed by thoughts of his wife, he retired to his room alone instead. Somewhere in the middle of all this, though, he managed to call Eve back.<p>

Whether the young woman was too busy or wanted to avoid him, he didn't know. He called at least twice and left messages both times before finally giving up. There was something going on with that girl. In the end, he decided to give her space and wait for her to call him back. Hopefully, they'd get to talk again after he set sail for the Berling Seas. He didn't like the way they ended their conversation, nor did he like the grim thoughts that plagued Eve's mind.

A world consumed by ice…

After a relaxing shower, Kyle focused on making preparations for his trip. Granted, he still felt a bit tipsy but he managed to work around it. Wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist now, he headed to the bedroom to unpack a medium-sized, fire-proof case Claudia left in his hotel room. Kyle set each item on the bed and conducted a quick inventory check. There was a laptop, a soldier uniform, a mini-sized earpiece and radio, a couple of identification cards and, of course, a standard pistol with an optional laser scope.

Kyle was particularly impressed by the black exoskeleton-like bodysuit also provided. Recently manufactured and approved for use by the CIA, the suit was light-weight and contained a pattern of intermeshed scales that lessened damage caused by knives and bullets. Additionally, the suit included a built-in biometric system and motion-sensor gadget, which definitely came in handy. Fireproof and waterproof, this was the ultimate item of choice.

Checking the case again, Madigan eventually discovered several magazines tucked inside a side zipper. He inspected one of them and noticed that the bullets were filled with a peculiar green liquid. No doubt, these bullets were specifically designed to take down any potential NMCs he might encounter in this mission. The CIA had based the bullets on the same concept a Japanese scientist derived during the NYC incident. He had incorporated Aya's DNA into a magazine, which allowed her to take out Melissa's offspring.

The liquid in Kyle's bullets contained the mitochondria of a powerful specimen. It slightly concerned him that it might've come from Aya herself. Or worse, some other donor who possessed such dangerous genes. In any account, he couldn't let his anxiety prevent him from doing his job. Kyle slipped one magazine into its proper home and set the pistol aside to focus his attention on the laptop.

After logging on and inserting the USB, Kyle spent a good hour going over his assignment. It covered everything he and Pepper already discussed, except in greater detail. For instance, he learned St. Matthews Island was the area connected to the underground base. However, because the island was potentially a hot zone, St. Lawrence Island was chosen as the drop point due to its close proximity. Onscreen, there were a few photos taken of the supposed entry point to the facility. Interesting, Kyle thought and stroked the tiny hairs on his chin with a thumb. Perhaps this meant some of the members involved in the secret organization were also stationed on the island itself. Maybe his mark was there too.

Kyle continued his mission brief and scrolled down its table of contents. He highlighted the next topic: the White Queen. Several images popped onscreen. They were satellite pictures, shot from high above. One photo captured a team of archeologists on a fisherman's boat. The group circled around a massive block of ice that hung by a series of thick cables. A body of text appeared after the photo:

"_2000, Alaska._ _The Ward Hunt Ice Shelf, the largest single block of ice in the Arctic, had shattered. Shortly after, many fishermen complained of finding burnt salmon, seals, and other ocean-based inhabitants. Scientists attributed it to the effects of global warming. After weeks of investigation, a group of archeologists located a hotspot in the Alaskan area and claimed to discover the body of an adult female. They nicknamed her the White Queen."_

Kyle glanced at the next photo. It was a close-up shot of one of the archeologists who was a part of the extraction team. Platinum-blond with extremely short, ruffled haired, the man was lean and tall. His skin was fair while his eyes were the color of milk-blue. He wore thin-framed glasses and looked somewhere in his mid-thirties. Frowning now, Kyle recognized him immediately.

"_Most peculiar was the team of archeologists that uncovered the White Queen_," the report continued. "_They were never seen again_. _Additionally, the names they provided to the authorities and residents had been ones of deceased persons. It is highly suspected they belonged to the Organization. One man, in particular, has been tied to the Neo Ark project in Dryfield, Nevada. He has been identified as Niklas Joachim_."

"Well, well, well…" Kyle muttered and observed the man's face. "_Hush_."

He knew the man. Niklas was once the CIA's top assassin, despite the fact he was the youngest of the pack. Back then they called him 'Hush' because he rarely, if ever, talked. The German-born man kept to himself a lot and obeyed orders without question. Kyle had worked with him before. In fact, they had been partners. During covert operations, he gathered and provided intelligence to the assassin. It took Kyle by surprised, then, when Hush abruptly left the agency. Even more, when he learned he worked for the Organization now. He wondered what it was that set the man off.

Kyle investigated the other images for more clues. There was a series of burnt corpses discovered at the site. One showed an Eskimo kneeling beside a dead polar bear. Its claws had extended outward while its mouth was wide open in a snarl. The poor animal was charred alive. The next photo revealed even more disturbing finds.

"_During the investigation, several persons within the area encountered symptoms similar to the ones experienced in the New York Blockade Incident._" The report showcased victims of severe, massive burns. Kyle took a deep swallow when he saw a child suffer from a fourth-degree burn. The painful, bloody blister covered half of his face. "_While details remain scarce, it is believed the White Queen may be connected to this phenomenon and is therefore considered to be dangerous. Use caution._"

Kyle scanned the rest of the images and document but found nothing else. In the end, it was just as Pepper said: unconfirmed rumors. Granted, the report offered possibilities and theories in greater detail, but nothing was written in stone yet. The Leviathan, itself, and its origins, remained a big mystery. Even the satellite images of the block of ice revealed nothing. Taken from a top perspective, it was difficult to make out what was inside the ice block. For all he knew, the archeologists uncovered Big Foot. His job was to confirm or discredit the reports.

Still.

The very fact Hush was at the scene indicated there was more to the White Queen than a simple archeological find. The man was a hired gun, after all, so he must've been assigned there to either protect or kill something. In any account, Kyle needed to investigate that underwater facility. The answer to eternity was there. While he didn't care much for the mission, if it meant getting in contact with his mark, then so be it.

At the bottom of his screen, an incoming pop-up message promptly appeared. Kyle checked it. It was an invitation to a secured voice chatroom. The invite came from a user called 'the Professor.' Immediately, he clicked on it. A new window opened and the avatar of a tuxedoed mannequin with a blank face appeared.

"_Long time no chat, Madigan_," a voice emitted from the laptop's speakers.

It was a scrambled signal. The voice, itself, was a mixture of male and female vocal cords. Kyle smiled.

"Staying up for a late-night session of Warcraft, are we, Professor?"

"_Warcraft?_" the Professor sounded offended. "_Please. That game is extremely primitive for my personal tastes._"

Kyle rolled his eyes. He wanted to make a smartass remark but was too tired to work his mouth properly. Instead, he stretched out his arms and legs on the bed. He'd been sitting cross-legged for a long time, hunched over as he read his mission brief. Only a few more hours left and he'd have to get ready to meet up with Pepper's crew. God, he wanted to sleep now…

"What do you want?" he asked and lay on his back. He set the laptop beside him.

"_I noticed you were going over the files_," the Professor replied, "_I thought you might want additional feedback._"

It always amazed Kyle how insightful the Professor was. Then again, the Professor was a mysterious creature. They'd been working together since he entered the CIA. Hell, the Professor had provided him all the intelligence he needed for the Neo Ark project as well as conjured up false data when MIST's headquarters did a background check on him. However, to this day, Kyle still didn't know the Professor's real name, gender, or age. The Professor was considered to be a shadow agent. No one knew of his or her location.

"Did Claudia put you up to this?" Kyle finally asked.

"_I'm here to assist you on your assignment._"

"Hmm. Figures."

"_You know the drill, Madigan. I'll be monitoring your progress throughout the mission and provide you with any necessary information. I'll also check your vital signs through the biometric device Claudia provided you and know your condition, in case the worse should happen._"

"Spec-ta-cular…" Kyle yawned.

"_Did you check the details on the White Queen yet, by the way?_"

"Yeah." Kyle closed his eyes and stretched again. "Not too much information on her, though, other than claims that she was uncovered in 2000 and may be linked to the cases of spontaneous self-combustion in Alaska. Quite a lady, eh? She's definitely the type to bring home to momma. Anything else I may have missed?"

"_A lot actually, Madigan._ _However, the additional information I want to share with you was not included in your report._"

"Oh, goody… _More_ information. Lovely."

"_Your use of sarcasm is inspiring, Madigan._"

"As is yours, Professor. Now get on with it, please." Kyle propped himself up with an elbow and rested on his side to watch the laptop's monitor.

"_Very well…_"

The screen on the laptop changed. It now revealed a front perspective shot of a figure encased in ice. Although enshrouded by a thick coat of frost, judging by the shape of the silhouette, it was definitely female. The environment that sheltered her looked massive and industrial. Kyle couldn't tell where the ceiling of the chamber began because the metal gated walls and interlocked pillars stretched far beyond the scope of the photograph. However, he did see that the chamber was divided into two floors. The entrapped woman rested on the top level while a flight of stairs led down a series of bio-reading monitors, gigantic screens, and human-sized machines.

Curious, Kyle glanced at the photo sideways. "Is this the White Queen?"

"_Possibly."_

"So is it true that all the research conducted in the facility is based off of her?"

"_Unknown. But I will say this. Allegedly, she's of prehistoric date and may contain an early strain of Mitochondrial Eve, perhaps even earlier than the one discovered in Africa._"

"Well, that would certainly explain why the Organization wanted her so damn badly. But…" Kyle paused. "You're telling me there was another Eve? Aside from the one discovered in Africa?"

"_The mitochondria have always been opportunists, Madigan. They've existed during the time of creation; way before the birth of humankind. It seems very narrow-minded to think these parasites didn't choose other alternatives, yes?_"

Kyle had to agree. The likelihood the parasites would bank it all on just _one_ host sounded absurd. Of course, this revelation opened the door for many more possibilities and inquiries. Perhaps the Eves in Africa and Alaska were just one of many primitive human hosts. That was certainly confirmed during his trip to Dryfield. Having hacked the Organization's mainframe, he had discovered a long list of potential Mitochondrial Eve candidates. Still, there remained more questions.

"If the White Queen was uncovered in the year 2000, then why didn't we know about it, Professor? I was in Dryfield and nowhere did I encounter information on this second facility or the White Queen."

"_Rumor has it that the Organization was formed by a group of archaeologists and scientists in search of a common human ancestry. Their ultimate goal was to investigate evolution and humanity's potential. They divided themselves into several teams. One group successfully located and uncovered the female specimen in Africa. The other factions either investigated the New York Incident or searched for the White Queen._"

"You mean… they already knew about her then?"

"_If this information is accurate, then yes, they did. The White Queen had been rumored to exist through legends and word-of-mouth by ancient tribes in Alaska. That was what led the Organization to set up a base there. As for your initial question: in the event that one base was compromised, each team conducted their own research and kept their own records private from the other. This prevented outsiders, like you, from ever knowing the existence of an additional facility. Secondly, this form of separation kept the scientists and staff in the dark._"

"I see your point," Kyle realized, "It's a lot easy for a scientist to conduct unethical experiments if they don't know what they're really doing. I imagine there were a lot of joint projects conducted between the two bases. One team accomplished one half of the project while the second team completed the rest. All the while, both parties didn't know the true nature of the overall assignment, or what they were actually achieving. For all they knew, they were finding cures to cancer, or some shit like that."

"_Exactly_."

"Do you think there are _other_ bases we don't know about yet?"

"_Perhaps._ _Time will tell._"

Kyle massaged the bridge of his nose. Terrific; another headache.

"It's kind of strange…" he began slowly, "Twice these people uncovered a Mitochondrial Eve. I mean, they found the Eve in Africa, right? And now, it seems, they uncovered the one in Alaska. They're pretty lucky, those bastards."

"_Lucky?_" The Professor went silent for a moment. "_Perhaps luck has nothing to do with it, Madigan. The Eve in New York, the Eve in Dryfield, and the Eve in Alaska… Maybe it was the will of the mitochondria that brought the Organization to them. Maybe the Eves _wanted _to be found and, therefore, set the way to their resting places._"

"That's… a rather disturbing thought," Kyle said quietly.

The possibility everything was predestined by the parasites was too frightening to consider. That, in itself, denoted intelligence. It worried him that even this trip to Alaska could be an intentional act on the mitochondria's part. But at this point what choice did he have? He needed to go.

"Where did you acquire this photo, Professor?" Kyle asked, deciding to change the subject. "It wasn't included in my mission brief. Why not?"

"_I received this image two days ago._"

"Really? From who?"

"_The source is currently unknown. The photo was sent through one of my encrypted channels. It could've arrived from one of the initial teams the agency sent. Or someone from the facility. I am still investigating the matter._"

Kyle abruptly sat up. His face was suddenly tensed. "Is this chatline secured, Professor? Does Claudia know…?"

"_She knows I am checking up on you, yes. However, she will not know the details of this discussion. I've applied several filters to make it impossible for her or the agency to hear or read our conversation._"

"And this photo?"

"_I've yet to report it in._"

"Good." With a serious look on his face, Kyle added: "Then can you tell me if this image came from my target?"

"_It is a strong possibility. That is why I wanted to show it to you first._"

Kyle stared absently at the image of the White Queen on his monitor. His mind rested heavily on a name: Dr. Sophie DuPont. His mark…

It was possible Dr. DuPont was the one to send the Professor that photograph of the White Queen. If that was the case, it relieved him greatly to know she was still alive and kicking. The fifty-five-year-old French scientist hadn't been heard from for several weeks. She was important to him. An expert in mitochondria research, she was one of the chief scientists that investigated the DNA samples of Aya after the NYC incident. She had also been among the staff responsible for Eve's creation in Dryfield. Shortly after being transferred to the underwater facility she contacted the Professor.

Dr. DuPont wanted out. Whereas the rest of the scientists were in the dark, she knew the true nature behind their research. But leaving the Organization had proven to be dangerous. Researchers who wanted to leave tended to be removed, _permanently_. Through the Professor, Kyle learned of the second base, her involvement, and her dire situation. He offered her his assistance to escape the base. Of course, he had his own personal motives in mind.

In exchange for his help, she would assist him in finding the answer to Aya's resurrection; even if it meant reproducing a new body for her. So long as Eve possessed his wife's original vessel, Aya's wandering soul had no home to claim. Given that the good doctor still possessed Aya's blood samples, reproducing a clone wasn't going to be a problem. The real challenge, though, was locating Aya's soul and somehow getting it to merge with the new body. It wasn't like he could call up a psychic to track it down and hire a Goddamn Ghostbuster to retrieve her spirit.

Kyle's headache worsened.

"Be sure to update me on the situation, Professor," he said. "I need to know if Dr. DuPont is still alive and where I can meet her."

Kyle opened the nearby dresser's drawer and searched for his bottle of pills.

"_Are you all right, Madigan?_" the Professor asked. "_You don't sound so good._"

"…I'm fine."

"_Is it the headaches again? I heard what happened to you earlier this month. Are you all right?_"

Madigan didn't bother to acknowledge the questions. Instead, he grabbed a water bottle from the mini-fridge and drank down his meds. He rolled his head side-to-side and massaged the back of his aching neck. He needed rest.

"_Have you been taking the anti-depressant pills I sent you?_" the Professor inquired. "_I prescribed to you some pretty heavy stuff but they should do the trick. I know it has been difficult for you. The passing of a loved one always is._"

Kyle refused to reply back.

"_Funny thing about depression_," the Professor continued, his voice even, "_It tends to activate the body's need for self-preservation. You acquire various coping mechanisms to protect yourself. For example, you might _block _out certain key events or persons in an attempt to remove the pain. Additionally, you distort the facts or emit the truth in order to live in a constant state of denial. You could even suffer from a dissociative identity disorder, one where you express uncomfortable thoughts and questions through different personas. In this way, you disassociate yourself from the situation and pretend it's happening to someone else. All of this… to preserve your sanity and soul._"

"I want you to scope for any encrypted signals emitted from Alaska," Kyle interrupted, not wanting to discuss his depression anymore. "If you have to stay up twenty-four hours a day to check for one, do it. I'm banking everything on Dr. DuPont being alive."

"…_I understand._"

"Good_._" Kyle sighed in exhaustion. "Then we're agreed. I'm heading to bed now. I'll get in touch with you whenever I get the chance, assuming the Leviathan doesn't pop up and tear me a part, of course."

"_Good night, Madigan._"

Kyle already knew the Professor wanted to further discuss his current mental state. After all, his depression had gotten worse throughout the years. He lost a few pounds and couldn't sleep much on account of strange dreams he constantly had. Things had really reached a low point for him earlier this month. He suffered from a severe headache and accidentally overdosed himself on the medication. Promptly sent to a hospital, he spent his time bedridden and out of his mind. Kyle he didn't remember much, only that he was released from the hospital a day earlier than expected.

Although getting help to treat his depression was important, Kyle didn't feel discussing it would solve his current problems or save Aya. It was going to waste valuable time instead; time he didn't have. Perhaps when he got closer to achieving his goal he'd take better care of himself. But until then, he had to set his personal issues aside and focus on the mission.

"Have a good one, Professor," Kyle said and immediately closed the laptop.

Only half-awake now, he stuffed the portable computer inside the case along with the other items he needed to take. Once everything was arranged and put into their proper place Kyle headed to the large window to close the blinds. His hand on the blinds' rod, he briefly stared up at the moon.

It was a gorgeous night; no clouds in sight. It reminded him a lot of the evening he and Aya shared together, when they confessed their feelings for the first time to one another. Granted, it wasn't as epically romantic as some Hollywood movie. In fact, they weren't even on a date. Eve had gone to a last-minute study group session and the two of them, having nothing to do that particular evening, were stuck together. It was a miracle they didn't kill each other. Aya accidentally burnt the dinner and he, being anxious around her, wouldn't stop patronizing her. Nevertheless, the evening turned for the better. She ordered food delivery and he found the strength to kiss her.

Kyle's hands went up to his sides. He pressed his palms and forehead on the window. The glass felt cool against his skin. In his mind, he replayed the entire night again and again. Her hair. Her face. Her eyes. Her lips. Her warmth. Their naked bodies… intertwined. God, those memories… Even now, he could still smell and taste her. Those sensations haunted him every night. He missed Aya. He missed making love to her. He missed thinking about their future. He missed seeing her smile. He missed _simply being with her_. Without Aya, he was nothing; just a shell of a man with no plans.

With a grim face, Kyle stared at an image planted on his right forearm. It was a tattoo he'd gotten during his days in the Air Force. Two skeletal figures with angelic wings faced each other. One was black, the other was white. Holding hands at eye level, the skeletons were intertwined by a long scroll ribbon that contained the words: 'Memento mori et memento amor…'

'_Remember death and remember love…_'

Sighing to himself, Kyle began to close the blinds. He paused when he noticed a small child sitting alone outside at the bottom floor's pool area. The boy was at the edge of the pool with his feet halfway sunk into the water. On his lap was a medium-sized pumpkin a bit too large for his size. It was currently lit. Curious, Kyle looked across the pool area for his guardians. He was surprised to find no one else out there.

Worried for the child's safety, Kyle considered calling hotel security. He feared the boy might fall into the water. As he picked up the phone and dialed zero, Kyle noticed the ragged clothes the small boy wore. Was the child homeless? If he called security he'd spend tonight at either a shelter or police station…

"_Front desk_," answered hotel staff from the other line.

"Uh… never mind."

Kyle immediately hung up and grabbed a shirt and his flannel pants sleepwear from the dresser. Snatching a robe and his card key as well, he quickly dressed himself and hurried downstairs.

* * *

><p>By the time Kyle reached the pool area, he halfway expected the boy to be either gone or his parents to appear. He was surprised, then, to find the boy still sitting alone at the edge of the pool. Careless, Kyle thought and shook his head. Whoever were this boy's parents needed to be crucified. This was reckless child endangerment and it was unacceptable in his book. From the double door entrance, Kyle entered the area. The boy didn't notice him. Instead, his head was sunk low. Absently splashing his feet against the water, the child seemed lost in his thoughts. Once Kyle realized he was at the deep end of the pool, he increased his pace. His bare feet padded quietly against the pavement floor. As he approached closer, he heard the boy hum and sing an old nursery rhyme.<p>

"_When Adam delved, and Eve span… Who was then a gentleman?_" The boy gently bobbed his pumpkin up and down on his lap.

"Hey, kid," Kyle suddenly announced.

Caught by surprise, the boy immediately stopped moving and looked up. Kyle walked over to him and put on his best dashing smile.

"Enjoying the pool? It sure is pretty, huh?" He squatted next to him and rested his elbows on his knees. "That's a nice pumpkin. Did you carve it yourself, kid?"

The boy kept quiet. He hugged his pumpkin tighter in his arms, as if he feared Kyle would steal it from him. When he noticed this Madigan raised both his hands up in the air as an act of peace. He chuckled softly.

"It's okay. I'm not here to hurt you."

Getting a good look of him now, Kyle was startled by how this boy appeared similarly to the one he saw at the nightclub days ago. The child wore the same filthy overalls, stained with grass and blood. When the moon's light reflected off the boy, it gave his tiny body a soft illuminist glow. For Kyle, the paleness of his complexion slightly disturbed him. The boy looked dead.

"I didn't mean to scare you like that." Kyle repositioned himself and now sat beside the boy with his legs crossed. "I'm just wondering what a small squirt like you is doing out here by yourself. Are your parents inside?"

With his large brown eyes, the child stared directly at Kyle. He didn't move or make a sound. Meanwhile his pumpkin, carved into a Jack-o-lantern, wickedly grinned. The light within it flickered on and off again. There was definitely something peculiar about this child, Kyle thought as he observed him, perhaps even familiar. He kept those minor sentiments to himself, however.

"Aren't you cold? It's pretty chilly out here." Kyle removed his robe. "Here, this will make you warm."

The boy hastily flinched back when he offered his robe. Kyle gave off a hearty laugh in reaction. He shook his head, a bit amused.

"I'm not going to hurt you, little guy, I promise. I just want you to stay warm. It's cold out here and you'll catch something without this."

Kyle waited for a response, whether audible or visual. After a long moment of dead silence, he noticed a hint of a smile on the boy's grimy face. Kyle took that as a sign of passive consent. Carefully, he placed the robe over the young male's shoulders. Accidentally, he touched some skin and immediately frowned. It concerned Kyle just _how_ cold this boy really was. He felt like ice, for Christ's sake. Immediately, Kyle wanted to bring him inside the hotel. Perhaps if he convinced the boy with a cup of hot chocolate he could nap at his room while he searched for his parents.

"Did ya enjoy yo' time over there?" the boy suddenly said.

Kyle blinked. With one brow slightly raised, he was surprised the child finally spoke. There was a heavy southern accent in his voice; deep and raspy. It sounded strange coming from such a young child.

Kyle scratched the side of his fuzzed cheek, slightly confused by the boy's question. "Did I enjoy my time over _where_, little guy?"

"Home. You went home yesterday."

Wrapped by the robe, the boy fidgeted inside it. He snuggled close to Kyle for more warmth. Resting his head against Kyle's chest area, the frail boy sighed softly to himself and smiled. Meanwhile, the sound Kyle made in his throat was somewhere between a grunt and a half-hearted laugh. He was surprised. How this boy knew he visited Arlington yesterday was beyond him. Or perhaps the boy's assessment was nothing more than an assumption that happened to be correct.

"Where are your parents?" Kyle asked again. "They must be worried about you."

"It's almost Halloween," the boy interrupted him. "It's a time when the dead shall rise an' inherit the land. It's important to remember the dead, ya know."

His wide brown eyes shined with a light in them now. Kyle noticed the new tone in the boy's voice. He sounded a lot livelier than before. Splashing his feet again, the child eagerly watched the heavy droplets of water sparkle high into the air.

"Yessir, 's a time to honor past loved ones," he continued and nodded to himself many times. "That's why you went home yesterday. Ain't it, Kyle?"

Kyle studied him closely. "How… how do you know my name?"

The boy pulled away from Kyle and glanced at him only once. Then he focused his attentions on the moon high above them. He inhaled slowly, as if he were completely taken by the orb's magnificence and mystery. The reflection of the pool's water, meanwhile, sparkled across his youthful face.

"I brought ya there, Kyle," the child finally murmured back.

"Brought me there…" Kyle repeated, puzzled. In a slow hushed voice, he later added: "Who are you, kid?"

"I wanted ya to see."

"To see…?"

"To see the voices of yo' past, silly."

The boy giggled and splashed his feet some more. Staring at the child again, Kyle was at a loss for words. He didn't know where he came from or how he knew his name. The more he sat beside him the more uncertainties and inquiries accumulated inside his head. To his credit, the boy had done an excellent job evading and ignoring all of his questions. But that wasn't the only thing that baffled Kyle. As awkward as this encounter was so far, he couldn't shake this feeling of déjà vu. This child…

"It's important you remember those people," the boy spoke again. "It's important to remember what they say. They hold the very things that were taken from ya."

"Taken from me…?" Kyle felt the air grow chilly. "I don't know what you're talking about, kid. In fact, I don't understand any of this. How do you know…?"

"1987?" the child quickly said. "Ring a bell?"

Kyle stopped. He brought his knees up to his chin. His voice was quiet when he answered: "I was a junior in high school. I graduated the following year and went into the Air Force. My mother died while I was in training."

The boy sniggered. "You _suuuuure_ that's what happened, Kyle? I mean, really, really, _really_ sure?"

"…Yeah. Of course."

"Would you swear your life on it?"

Kyle paused.

"…'Cause honestly speakin', I don't think ya can." The boy scoffed. "I mean, sure, you _did_ go to the Air Force. And yeah, you _were_ recruited by the CIA. However…" The boy sat straight and grinned. "…That's only half the story. As crazy as that son-of-bitch was, Uncle Sky really _did _tell ya the truth 'bout what happened that year."

Struggling to maintain some self-control, Kyle rose to his feet and glared down at him. This kid… He knew _so much_ about him. It was impossible. There was no way the boy could have known what transpired between Uncle Sky and him yesterday, not unless he was there. Who _was_ he?

Violated and exposed, Kyle wanted to leave. "I'm heading inside to look for your parents. You should come inside with me before you catch a cold."

"Don' change the subject, now. What, you 'fraid of discoverin' the truth?" the boy snorted and looked away from Kyle in disgust. "You 'fraid 'bout yo' past? 'Bout who you _really_ are?"

Kyle went silent.

"If ya want to know what really happened that year," the boy continued, "then I reckon you should talk to Claudia whenever ya get the chance. Yah?"

Kyle frowned. "_Claudia?_"

The boy finally stopped splashing his feet. He leaned closer toward Kyle's direction and his eyes grew intense.

"Shh, don' tell _anyone_ this, Kyle," he answered in an exaggerated tone, "but Claudia has kept a _very_ big, nasty secret from ya." Shortly after, he added quietly, "Not everythin' is what it seems to be."

Taking a step back, Kyle finally heard enough. He shook his head. Whoever this boy was, he needed him to _stop_.

"Listen, kid," he scolded him, "I don't know who you are nor do I care to know. _Just shut up _and come with me until I find your parents. Okay?"

The cheeks on the boy's face flushed with color and he held the pumpkin to his chest. Biting his lower lip, the boy shut his eyes. "I… I told you you'd forget me someday, Kyle…" he said with a shaky voice. "God, I told you… And you _lied_ to me…"

Kyle's right eye twitched. Those words…

"You told me you'd never forget me. But you did anyway…" His tiny body began to shiver. "_You left me behind!_"

Although he couldn't comprehend it, something deep within Kyle recoiled and broke apart. His shoulders sagged. The last time he felt this way was when Aya died. The boy's words… He heard them before.

Kyle went on one knee to be at eye-level with the boy. Even if he failed to understand these odd emotions within him right now, he did confess to feeling a connection to the child. In fact, it was a bond he hadn't felt since…

"I didn't mean to hurt you, little guy," Kyle apologized. He reached out to remove a twig from the boy's hair. "It's just… you know… This is all very confusing to me."

"You're 'fraid!" the boy countered; frustrated. His face was red. "Yo' 'fraid of the truth. You've been runnin' from it yo' whole Goddamn life. Thought you could live happily ever after wit' yo' wife an' pretend the past never happened. But I'm here now… An' you can't stand it, can you?" He clutched the pumpkin in his hands tighter. "I will _not_ be a forgotten memory, Kyle!"

Kyle lowered his head and exhaled slowly. He was unable to express the words that circulated inside his head. They didn't make any sense. Like yesterday, he was consumed by thoughts and emotions that were initially alien to him, yet somehow familiar. His past, it had something to do with his past. Kyle knew that much. However, for the life of him, he just… couldn't remember it. There was some type of mental concrete wall that blocked him from seeing into the other side.

"I made this for ya…" the boy said later and nodded at the pumpkin in his arms. Several tears rolled down his rosy-colored cheeks. "Halloween was yo' favorite holiday. T'was the only time of the year you could dress up an' pretend you was someone else…"

Covering his mouth with a hand, Kyle remained there. Contemplating.

"I promised that I'd never leave ya." The child's voice was slow and faint now. "An' I never did. Throughout all yo' life trials, I was there to take 'em with ya. I've been watchin' over ya all this time. An' I've been waitin' for this day we'd be together 'gain. The time is near now… Can't ya feel it?"

Staring at the empty space between them now, Kyle took a deep swallow and discovered his mouth had gone dry. None of this should've made any sense. Yet, somehow, it did. Even when all types of disasters had befallen on him, from Dryfield to the time of the Twisted, he felt he wasn't entirely… alone. There had been a presence with him. He _did_ feel something.

"Uncle Sky an' the others thought they could separate us…" The boy laughed. It was a sad laughter, though. "But all they did was delay the inevitable. Not that it matters no mo'. In many ways, it worked out better fo' us. Like a larva, you slept an' matured throughout all these years." He looked up at Kyle suddenly. His brown eyes were fierce and sharp. They seemed to glow into a shade of red. "But you've rested 'nough in yo' cocoon, I think. It's high time we awaken. _Together_."

The boy's words completely mystified Kyle. For such a small child, he spoke with the authoritative tone of an adult's. Even his body language suggested a boy of mature age. Of course, that wasn't what startled Kyle the most. His tales of an 'awakening' were particularly disturbing. Before Kyle could inquire more about it, the boy pushed the pumpkin forward to him.

"Trick o' treat," the boy teased and waited for Kyle to take it.

Initially, Kyle was reluctant to accept it. It didn't seem right to take something from a boy he knew so little about. There was a connection between them, yes. But there was something else too, something he couldn't quite figure out at this point of their meeting. Kyle glanced up when he sensed he was being watched. The boy studied him with a look of amusement on his face.

"Is it a trick? O' a treat?" the boy taunted again, "You'll only find out the answer by takin' it. Unless yo' too 'fraid?"

His heart pounding loudly against his chest, Kyle's hands eventually touched the ribs of the pumpkin. "I'm not afraid…"

"That's what ya always say, _liar_," the boy sneered.

Pumpkin in hand, Kyle observed it for a moment. The boy's crafting skills were impressive. The interior had been cut away nicely and all the edges were sharp. It took Kyle back to the days when he carved pumpkins before Halloween as a kid. Uncle Sky smashed them all, of course, and accused him of celebrating the Devil's holiday. Still, he enjoyed the act of reshaping things with his bare hands.

"Today you will rest as the simple man you are now," the boy declared, "But soon… soon you will awaken to yo' true potential."

"My true potential…" Kyle echoed softly, "I don't understand a bit of that. In fact, this whole conversation is strange. Why won't you tell me your name? Or how you know me so well? I… I feel that I should know you. I feel like I've met you before. But… I…"

"You _will_ understand, Kyle. In time, you will. That's why I'm here."

The boy stood with his back to the pool. Kyle immediately frowned when the boy took a step backward, towards the water.

"I came here fo' a reason," the boy clarified in a blunt voice and maintained eye contact. "Ya need to prepare yo'self. By that, I means to say, prepare for _the pain_."

"The _pain?_" Kyle's shook his head, confused.

The boy took another step back and was only an inch from the water.

"Yes. Soon, Kyle, you'll undergo pain, a pain that'll shatter the pieces of yo' own soul." He smirked. "But don' be sad now… Pain is jus' a necessary part of yo' process. 'S the final stage 'fore the larva becomes the moth. You'll finally be reborn an' I… I will breathe into this world. I've waited a long time for someone like you to come along…"

His arms spread apart. There was a large smile on his face. His lips echoed a verse from a poem Kyle was familiar with:

"_Patient I wait through the long winter hours;_ _You __will see me again-__I shall laugh at you then, __Out of the eyes of a hundred flowers._"

The boy fell into the water backwards.

"No!" Kyle yelled. He dropped the pumpkin and dove into the pool after him.

The water was frigid, cold enough to suck the air right out of him. Kyle accidentally took in a few gulps of it and nearly choked. He forced himself to swallow and breathe. Once the initial shock was over, he kicked his feet and swam. Underwater, he searched left and right for the boy. He turned his body in all directions; his heart pounding loudly in his ears. Kyle was surprised when there was no sign of the boy anywhere. He practically disappeared. Or maybe he got out of the water without him knowing? Kyle continued pushing forward anyway and swam the entire length of the pool several times before finally coming up for air.

"Jesus…!" he spat the moment he surfaced.

Panting loudly, Kyle pulled himself out of the pool and propped himself onto the pavement. He shivered and rubbed his arms against his chest to manufacture body heat. With only his eyes, he checked the pool area one more time for the boy. Gone. The child was gone. Like before, he disappeared to wherever he came from. Kyle paused as his eyes wandered the pool area. He noticed something was amiss. His pumpkin. It was smashed. There something inside of it.

Kyle crawled toward it. Slowly, his hand reached inside its ruins.

He pulled out an old family portrait picture. The picture had been aged and worn out, with edges that were torn. Kyle's eyes softened as he inspected it. There stood a man with similar features as him in the picture. He stood side-by-side with a blond-haired woman. The mother held a five-year-old boy with dust brown hair in her arms. Behind the family was a trailer and red pick-up truck. Checking the back of the photo, Kyle discovered words: _Daryl Madigan, Jezebel Madigan, Kyle Madigan - 1976_

"A treat…" Kyle realized and withdrew a breath.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>_ That's it for now, folks! The next section, 'Phase 2: CHRYSALIS', will be up in a few weeks. I'm writing Chapter 13 right now and am over 130-pages already. I'm just *barely* getting into the gist of this section, lol. Lordy, at this rate this story is gonna be at least 300 pages long. ;_; Still, it's worth it. I love writing this and getting to watch these characters come to life. I already have the overall plot/direction in my head. But there are times when these characters poke me on my belly and prompt me to switch things around, lol. The dynamics between Eve and Kyle will definitely be interesting._


	8. CHAPTER 7: The Calm

**Author's Note:** _It's been awhile. O_O I've been occupied by work and new art for the upcoming conventions, including two Parasite Eve fanart! Woot! :) Of course, I've also been writing/rewriting this section as well. PHASE 2: CHRYSALIS is kinda the meat of the story. Most of the action takes place here, as well as a major shift in direction. I wanted to take my time to get it right. I'm still struggling with the future chapters though so it'll take awhile for the next update. Still, here's the first chapter for the second section of my PE story. PE1 fans should be pleased with this chapter. :D_

* * *

><p><strong>PHASE 2: CHRYSALIS<strong>

_**CHAPTER 7: The Calm**_

October 28, 2015 | Outskirts of St. Lawrence Island, Alaska | 10:30am

When Kyle first heard about the escorts to Alaska, he expected only a handful of ships and planes to accompany them. Perhaps two boats and a few aircrafts, max. Instead, as he stared at a live satellite feed displayed on his laptop, he discovered a large fleet of naval ships sailing the waters of the Bering Sea. It immediately gave him an idea of how severe the situation had become. No doubt, several of these boats served as mere decoys for the large creature that plagued the waters. The plan was to distract the Leviathan long enough to allow a few ships and aircrafts to land on the island. Even so, it bothered him a bit. He hated sacrificing a lot of good men and women.

"_You're not far from the drop zone, Raven_," Claudia informed into the earpiece of his headset. "_The Navy has yet to show anything on their radar but stay alert anyway. Based from the last transmission we received by our previous team, the Leviathan may possess stealth capabilities and will not appear until minutes of an attack. I hope you secured all your items in the appropriate place in case you have to jump ship. The equipment provided to you may be water and fire proof but that won't mean a damn thing if it gets lost in the middle of the ocean, Raven. Understand?_"

For the past hour, Claudia, under the codename 'Eagle', had been giving him updates on the situation. Because he was in the company of people, however, he was restricted to radio silence and couldn't respond back. Flying inside a K-10 tanker aircraft, Kyle sat alongside a team of elite military personnel. They were assembled in two long rows, facing each other. Wearing white army fatigues and parachute packs, several of them were either taking a nap or discussing random life topics. In the background, music from seventies rock band legends blared loudly from the aircraft's speakers.

According to Kyle's identification badge and insignia, he was Corporal Dwayne Kappa of the United States Army Special Forces; a recent transfer. His unit was being escorted by the 182nd Fighter Squadron, otherwise known as the 'Lonestar Fighters'. It was Pepper's Air Force posse. The sky was littered with air support, from fighter jets to a few tankers transporting more ground troops to the designated island. Overall, it was a joint military operation that required the best of the best.

"_News of this operation has reached the public_," continued Claudia, "_However, it's already been handled by our offices. Still, follow standard protocol and refer to your script if necessary, all right?_"

On his computer, Kyle opened a new browser window to view a current news report on the operation. As far as the media was concerned, a ship carrying biohazard materials had exploded within the Alaskan region. Much like the Exxon Valdez incident of 1989, the Navy, along with the assistance of the Army and Air Force, were dispatched to clean-up and secure the contaminated area. While the false report definitely ruffled the feathers of many environmentalists, it managed to keep the news media and general public away from the Bering Sea waters.

Kyle returned to the previous browser he surveyed earlier. With no windows to provide a view outside the tanker craft, he was left to resort to his laptop. As his eyes studied the waters from the video feed, questions regarding the Leviathan's origins surfaced in his mind. For a creature that size, he wondered how it went unnoticed for all these years. Surely, there'd have been some record of it, especially from a satellite. The current theory was that it was recently conceived by the Organization. However, Dr. DuPont never mentioned to him the existence of such a creature in her transmissions. And if the Organization was responsible for it Kyle had to question what their intentions were. So far, the creature remained approximately in the same area. With its sheer size and power the Organization could've easily used it overtake heavily populated areas if they wanted to. Yet, the Leviathan had stayed put. Was it limited to cold temperatures then? Did the Organization have other plans for it? Something didn't add up.

"_The party bandwagon, as you may have noticed, is pretty big,_" commented Claudia, who chuckled on the other line. "_We got everyone but Chuck Norris. We recently discovered from our offices last night that the FBI has even sent a few operatives of their own to investigate the Leviathan. MIST agents, in fact._"

Kyle frowned.

MIST agents? Here? The impact of the news was apparent on his face. He expected MIST would learn about the situation in Alaska and tag along. But the news still didn't settle well with him. Usually when MIST got involved they sent a particular person out to investigate the matter.

"_Agent Brea is supposedly among them,_" Claudia added, as if reading his mind.

Kyle shut his eyes.

Damn it. This was one of those rare occasions when he regretted Eve being an agent at MIST. While he had faith in her to get the job done he also didn't want her to get hurt or, worse, killed. He already lost Aya. Still. It was inevitable that Eve would be involved in a mission like this. Eve possessed an incredible power and was humanity's ultimate ace up their sleeve. He had to respect her occupation and the risks she made.

"_They're riding along with the Navy boys. Be sure to assist them, Raven. MIST may have gathered intelligence on this creature and the White Queen. Acquire whatever information they might have, by any means necessary._"

Staring up at the ceiling, Kyle sighed and sat further back against his seat. He knew what she meant. The last time he was told this he had to play the part of a two-faced agent to gather information from both parties. For all intended purposes, he succeeded, even when it meant blowing up a building alongside a homicidal maniac, shooting an agent, and putting a little girl's life in danger. Now he was called upon again to put Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde back on stage. And like last time, it would be with someone close to him. Hopefully, however, it didn't have to come down to that.

Kyle softly growled to himself. Truthfully, the ability to switch personalities and manipulate people to do what he wanted was so easy it scared him. Hell, he fooled Aya many times. It was why their relationship had initially been an on-again-off-again type of thing for several years. He had to earn Aya's trust for nearly eight years before he could finally propose to her. Even then, the wedding itself took place two years after.

Kyle didn't blame Aya. He really was a jerk. It took a long time for him to come to terms with himself. According to the Professor, his habit of mind-manipulation came from two things: his job and a personal self-defense mechanism to protect himself from hurt. He thought that last part was a crock of shit.

"_This will be my last transmission until you contact me when you're in the clear_," spoke Claudia in his earpiece. "_If anything should happen between now and then contact me immediately, Raven. You know my frequency. Remember, our line is secured but always use precaution._"

Tapping his fingers alongside his laptop, Kyle overheard Claudia's words but started to recollect last night's event. To him, the encounter with the boy felt more like a dream than of an actual circumstance. Perhaps it really was. For all Kyle knew, it was merely a delusion caused by fatigue; it never happened. Nevertheless, what the boy said did trouble him. The notion that Claudia kept a big secret from him wasn't beyond her capacity. Unfortunately, the possibility prompted many questions and insecurities. If the Major was hiding something Kyle had to wonder if this entire mission was tainted.

"_Be careful_," Claudia urged; her was voice low. "_I don't want to lose you out there, Raven. Report to me as soon as you can, just so I know you made it okay._"

Her voice sounded genuine enough, Kyle noted to himself. Still. He had been wrong about people before. And he always had to prepare himself for the worse case scenario. In this business, he had only himself to look out for.

"_Eagle out_," announced the Major and signed off.

And with that, there was complete radio silence.

Kyle watched the live feed of the ocean's waters one more time. Questions still abound, as did the concerns and doubts. While he needed to maintain a strong focus on the mission, feelings of dread and uncertainty gnawed at his mind. It was rare of him to be this shaken up. Years of discipline had trained him to control his emotions. Emotions, after all, were irrelevant and possibly fatal in a mission. But this place… It invoked a peculiar sensation in him. There was _something_ out there; something waiting for him. He could somehow… _sense_ it.

Keeping his headset on for good safety measures, Kyle finally closed the laptop. Beneath his seat he placed the portable device inside the fireproof case Claudia had given him yesterday. The rest of his equipment, including his armor suit, was stashed there. It gave him some peace of mind to know his inventory would be protected from anything, including an explosion.

Once everything was settled, Kyle grabbed a pillow and blanket from a compartment above his seat. The strange encounter with the boy last night had left him exhausted this morning. He hadn't slept at all. The child had alleged he'd feel _pain_ soon. He had no idea what that meant, nor did that help with his current situation. The mission was stressful enough as it was, especially when he just learned Eve was here. Kyle really didn't want to worry about _pain_ right now. However, it boggled his mind and deep down, he was nervous. Christ Almighty. For the first time in his life he was actually scared shitless. What was _wrong_ with him? Had he already lost his nerve?

Kyle stared at his wedding rings. Granted, he had had issues with God as well as the religion forced on him at an early age. It was by some miracle, then, that he still had an ounce of faith in him. At the very least, he believed in Aya. He hoped her spirit would guide and give him the strength to endure the hardships up ahead.

With pillow and blanket in place, Kyle found a comfortable sleeping position. Afterward, he removed a photograph from his chest pocket and stared at his father and mother. He was surprised when the boy left him this gift. Up until last night, his mother's face was a blur and his father was nothing more than a shadow. But now, because of that mysterious child, he could finally put a face to his parents.

_It's important you remember those people_. _It's important to remember what they say. They hold the very things that were taken from ya._

Yes, that's what the boy said last night. Taken from him… That was interesting, Kyle thought to himself. Uncle Sky had said something similar. He told him _they_ took him. According to him, _they_ took him during his junior year.

_1987? Ring a bell?_

1987. Something happened during that year; something very important. However, his memory was obscured. From what Kyle could remember, he finished school the following year and that was that. He even had the diploma as proof of his accomplishment. Still, it was funny that he couldn't recall what happened to Rosemary, his high school sweetheart. Did they go to high school prom together? Or did she drop out of school because of her abortion? Where was she today?

Kyle felt his eyes grow heavy. As he tried to think of what he did during that particular year, he finally dosed off and fell to sleep.

* * *

><p>Outskirts of St. Lawrence Island, Alaska | 11:05am<p>

The air was extremely chilly as Agent Eve Brea stood on the deck of the USS Pharaoh with a cup of hot coffee in hand. Already, a few flakes of snow had fallen from the sky and the clouds darkened. Even with her heavy winter coat on, Eve practically felt the cold draft of the Bering Sea penetrate her skin. The red Italian leather and fur-collared jacket kept her decent, but against this brutal chill? She might as well have been naked.

From the stainless walls of a nearby jet plane, Eve paused at the reflection that stared back at her. She was a new woman now. Her ice-blue eyes were covered with black eyeliner and smoky-gray eye shadows. Meanwhile her lips had been glossed by a light rosy shade. The raven black hairstyle was different too; a sleek cut with one side longer than the other that ended with a sharp tip. Indeed, it was a new Eve Brea; complete with a stylish look that was nowhere near as conservative as her older sister's.

Admittedly, Eve did take some pleasure in growing more and more comfortable with her very womanly body. After all, her original vessel had grown abnormally slow due to her mitochondria. She was already reaching into her twenties by the time she graduated from college. Yet, she retained the look of a twelve-year-old child. It was difficult feeling comfortable in her shoes when she lacked all of the feminine aspects her older sister possessed. There had been many days Eve was envious of Aya. She wanted to be the woman her sister was. Today Eve finally was; except it came at a terrible price.

In slight discomfort, Eve readjusted the bulky backpack attached to her back. It contained all of her weapons and essential items. Peering at the scenery up ahead, Eve couldn't help but find this place to be lifeless and depressing. It didn't help that she was surrounded by heavy machinery either. Several navy battleships and aircraft carriers sailed beside the USS Pharaoh while the skies above roared with the engines of planes and fighter jets. The military wasn't taking any chances with the creature they were faced with. It had already taken the lives of over a hundred people, according to the reports Agent Carradine provided. A bit concerned by it herself, Eve exhaled out a large puff of air and watched it evaporate before taking a sip of her coffee. Then she closed her eyes to meditate and collect her thoughts. She needed to be calm and ready.

"_Daaaaaaamn_, my balls are freezin'!"

Eve's eyes immediately snapped open.

She turned and discovered an extremely tall and muscular-fit black man standing behind her on the deck. His face currently covered by a thick furry hood, he wore at least three sets of winter coats. Hugging himself tightly, the man twisted his body back and forth, as if to ward off the chilly weather. It was quite a sight.

"How the hell do they expect us to fight this Levia-whats-her-name in this weather?" the man spat and stood beside Eve now. "I can practically take a piss now and watch it turn to ice."

Sighing to herself, Eve offered her cup of coffee to him. "Here. This should keep you warm for awhile."

With his wool-made mittens, he struggled to get a firm grasp of the mug. Eve expected him to drop it, yet, by some miracle, he managed to do just fine. After taking a long sip, the man glanced up at Eve and grinned.

"Huh, I didn't know you took your coffee _all the way_ _black_ with lots of sugar."

Eve's face flushed red and she turned away.

Good lord, Pierce was right: Agent Ben Dollis was certainly a handful. Straight out of New York, the rookie agent was previously a member of SWAT before being transferred to MIST headquarters. He was as loud as he was boastful. Rarely, he stopped talking and whenever he spoke it usually concerned the most outrageous topics to ever violate her ears. Since their meeting yesterday, Eve wondered if this man had what it took to be a MIST agent at all. Everything seemed like a big joke to Dollis. He didn't take anything seriously. It was very unlike Rupert to accept a hotshot guy like him into their organization, no matter how good he was.

"Penny for your thoughts, Ms. Agent Eve Brea?" Dollis suddenly asked and took another sip from the mug. "You got the look of someone who wants to kill something; kinda like the same death glare my landlord gives me whenever I'm two weeks behind on my fucking rent."

Dollis finally removed the hood of his coat and revealed his face: deep black eyes, big lips, well-defined cheekbones, and a strong chin with a strip of trimmed hair that ran down its length. His hair, held back into a big ponytail, had been divided into a series of thick dreadlocks that spanned six-inches long. Meanwhile, his sideburns were stylishly cut to a drastic point. When Dollis smiled, his teeth shined white and his eyes became animated.

Eve crossed her arms. Rather than be upfront about her feelings she chose her words carefully: "I'm worried about our mission if you must know, Agent Dollis. I want things to run smoothly. It'll help if we stay focused."

"Yeah. _And?_"

She looked at him. Somehow, he knew there was more she had to say. Turning her body toward him, she added: "_And_… I think we should act in a professional manner."

"Oh?" Dollis stared out at the ocean and drank his coffee. "I wasn't aware that acting 'professional' affected the mission's outcome."

"Yeah, well, it does to me. We need to conduct ourselves accordingly; not act as children who fling swear words left to right."

Dollis laughed and looked back at Eve with a cocked brow. "Sheeit, my former Sergeant used to tell me the same damn thing all the time too. I didn't pay much attention to him though."

"Maybe you should've, Mr. Dollis."

"You think so?"

"As a matter fact…" Eve brusquely nodded her head. "Yes, I do. You'd earn plenty of respect if you acted a bit more serious."

He shrugged. "Maybe I don't give a shit about any of that."

"You should."

"Says you. But honestly, I never cared what people thought or worried how I should act." He took a moment to scratch crust out of his left eye with a gloved finger. "You're free to love or hate me but, in the end, I get the job done."

"That sounds a bit cocky, if you ask me."

"Nope. I'm not being cocky. It's just how I feel."

"It still sounds cocky to me."

Dollis turned his body and faced Eve finally. "Look, I believe in myself. Maybe that seems cocky to you, but I _know_ I will get the job done. Even if it costs me my life, I'll succeed in my mission. That's a promise."

Eve stared at him.

"The way I figure…" he continued and looked back at the sea, "You can either waste your life caring about some rule book. Or run it the best way you can and go from there. You're going to fuck up either way. You might as well be true to yourself and do what feels _right_ than what feels appropriate." Dollis chortled. "But hey. What the hell do I know? I'm just a rookie, right?"

Eve became silent.

Dollis handed her back the cup of coffee. He winked. "Thanks, partner. I really needed that."

Eve wasn't sure whether he was thanking her for the cup of coffee or the small heart-to-heart chit-chat they had just now. Quite honestly, it surprised her that he still addressed her as 'partner', despite her harsh words to him. Either the man didn't know how she really felt about his obnoxious attitude. Or he simply didn't care.

"Hey, check it out," Dollis said and nodded at a group of people that emerged from the ship's cabin.

Eve immediately recognized the pack. At point was Thelonious Cray, a middle-aged, dark-skinned man with a fit physique. A former Army Special Forces operative, he served in MIST as a combat specialist and was typically the man who recommended potential recruits like Agent Dollis to Director Broderick. Like Gabrielle and Dr. Blank, however, Eve also knew him from a previous life. He trained her in weapons and close-range combat against the Twisted. A strong, determined and proud man, she was glad to see Thelonious among the team sent to investigate the Leviathan.

Accompanying Thelonious was Doctor Kunihiko Maeda, the quirky scientist from Japan. A man who never cared for physical appearance, his greasy mid-level black hair was pulled back into a ponytail while his khaki-colored coat contained smudges and tears. Eve could tell his jeans hadn't been washed for weeks while his tennis shoes were in dire need of an update. Constantly fascinated by mitochondria and human evolution, Maeda was always ready for fieldwork investigations like this. A close acquaintance of Pierce, he learned about the Leviathan and immediately set off to join them. No doubt, he had also come to check up on his favorite test subject too, Eve thought sulkily to herself.

Walking beside Dr. Maeda was Gabrielle Monsigny; the weapons expert and currently the top sniper in MIST. Eve was excited and relieved to have an agent like her here. Covered by a long rich-brown fox fur coat, Gabrielle always dressed in elegant style. To her, battling NMCs was no excuse to ignore personal hygiene or style.

Escorting the attractive sniper was a young man with short, curly red hair. According to Pierce, Gabrielle had been paired up with her very own rookie partner, which amused Eve greatly. She received the better end of the stick, though. Unlike Agent Dollis, Agent Royce Jenkins acted his own age and was, not only handy with a gun, but also a former medical specialist of the Royal Australian Navy.

"Agent Brea and Dollis," Thelonious called out the moment he spotted them on the deck. He waved and walked over to them. "We were just looking for you two. Getting acquainted with each other better, eh?"

Dollis' grin was wide while Eve's face was blank. Thelonious stood in front of the pair while the rest of his pack arrived.

"So what's the latest news?" Eve inquired immediately.

"The Captain hasn't received any reports of a creature sighting yet," Gabrielle informed. She set a large case that contained her sniper rifle on the ground. "However, we're close to the island now so we have to be ready for anything."

"Has Pierce found a connection between the creature and the island? There has to be something, especially when everyone seems to be headed at the same direction."

"P-pierce is still looking into it," answered Dr. Maeda nearby. "While it s-seems to be an appropriate p-place to land troops, the f-fact the creature remains in the area s-strongly suggests there's more to the, um, island than we're led to b-believe."

Before he could add anything else, Maeda's face turned pale. Grabbing a paper bag from his coat's pocket quickly, he shoved his mouth inside it and vomited loudly.

Everyone took a step away from him.

Laughing, Dollis walked from behind the nauseous man and gently patted the scientist on the back. "Still suffering from motion-sickness, eh, doc?"

Maeda nodded and heaved again. "Ugh… I h-hate boats."

"Based on the last boat you were on, I don't doubt it."

Eve was intrigued by Dollis' comments and mannerisms. He seemed to be familiar with the scientist, which was strange to her. Maeda wasn't the social type and Dollis didn't look like the kind of guy who hung out with oddball geniuses during the weekends. She wondered if they had a history together.

"You know Dr. Maeda, Dollis?"

Dollis stared at Eve for a moment. Finally, he replied, "Yeah. You could say we know each other. Right, doc?"

Maeda bobbed his head. Then he returned his attentions back to the bag. As his gags grew louder, Thelonious shook his head and covered his eyes; halfway disgusted. He decided to get everyone back on track.

"So, uh, listen…" he interjected and slowly moved further away from Maeda, "Director Broderick has been following along with the operation closely from headquarters. He'll be giving us updates the moment he finds anything new. He advises everyone to maintain communication with each other and follow protocol."

Each present member of MIST nodded.

"In the meantime, he put me in charge of the team so no one makes a move without my authorization." Once he received a confirmation from everyone again, Thelonious added: "On account of every military branch being present, it'll be just the six of us MIST members. However, the Captain of this ship is willing to assist us in any shape or form. I'm hoping it won't be necessary to call for backup. I already told Broderick we'd get the job done. Besides, we got a packed house as it is."

Wholeheartedly agreeing with him, Gabrielle softly laughed.

"So just to verify, boss," Agent Dollis started, "We're here to investigate the Leviathan and its origins, right?"

"That's right. Because everything is still up in the air, though, there may be a few things we'll uncover along the way. Director Broderick wants a thorough investigation, remember. We may have to change our tempo and readjust our strategies on the spot. In the meantime…"

Thelonious looked at Gabrielle.

"In case we ever need to split up, you and Agent Jenkins are with me. We'll serve as Team A. Eve…" He turned his attention to the blond-haired agent. "You're with Dollis. You'll be Team B. You're also in charge of looking after Dr. Maeda. That is, of course, if you don't mind?"

Close by, Agent Dollis hoped Eve would say 'no'. As brilliant as Dr. Maeda was, in the actual battlefield he was considered deadweight. A mere civilian, he wasn't capable of protecting himself and came on this mission to serve only as a supervisor. Dollis felt he was better off with Team A since they had more firepower. Even if he slowed them down, Gabrielle or Thelonious could help pick up the slack. Dollis kept his mouth shut, however. In the end, it was Eve's call.

"I can handle it, sir," Eve replied and nodded obediently.

"You sure?" asked Gabrielle and smiled. "It really won't be a problem for us at all, Eve. We just figured you could use an extra man on your team."

"No. It's okay. If you want me to look after Maeda I can do it."

Behind her, Dr. Maeda paused long enough to nervously smile. "Oh, m-my… This will, um, c-certainly be a treat. Heh, heh…"

He shoved his mouth inside the bag again. Sighing, Dollis took one of Maeda's arms and hung it over his shoulder to offer him support.

"Let's get you back inside the ship before you pass out, doc."

"B-but…" he protested and stared eagerly at Eve.

"Nah, man." Dollis shook his head. "You need to get your _sick_, scrawny, pale little Japanese ass back inside and rest."

"Yes, t-that may be g-good… Um, thanks…"

As Dollis helped Dr. Maeda back into the ship's cabin, Thelonious wandered a few steps forward and looked up at the sky. There was a look of satisfaction on his face while he watched the planes soar above and the adjacent ships sail. He placed his hands inside his coat's pockets.

"We got to hand it to the boys here: they really pulled through on this one. I hear they got Special Forces units on those tankers. It's gonna be a helluva fight."

"Yeah, well, let's hope we don't have to engage in battle at all," Gabrielle asserted with a smug smile. She leaned her body against the deck's chained rail. "I know you came here for the action, Thelonious, but settle down boy."

"Aw, c'mon. This beats sitting behind a desk or telling some rookie how to hold his pistol. _If_ you know what I mean."

"Actually, no, I _don't_ want to know what you mean."

Gabrielle glanced at Eve's direction and the two women laughed. Meanwhile, Agent Jenkins, who had been quiet throughout the entire conversation, retained a serious look on his face. His ice blue eyes had been wandering across the deck, observing many navy men and women conduct their routine duties. However, his attention eventually stayed on a particular man standing a few meters away from their group.

Alone by the bow of the ship, a young man stared out at the distance with his arms crossed. Petite-shaped, he looked in his early twenties and was no taller than five feet five. His coat's hood down, he possessed a flawless fair complexion and cropped-short wavy silver hair. Wearing an elongated dark grey coat and black suit underneath, he didn't appear to be a part of the navy personnel, nor did he look like a mere civilian. When the young man sensed he was being watched, he glanced back at Agent Jenkins. His eyes illuminated an intense blue color. In a calm, unhurried manner, the young man started to leave the deck.

"So, mates, I heard some profound earbashing from a few cobbers here," Agent Jenkins addressed everyone; his eyes peeled on the young man as he walked past them. "Apparently, there're a few covert blokes on the tinny with us."

Not noticing what he was staring at, Gabrielle looked over at her partner. "Really? And here I thought we had _more than enough_ agents in this party bandwagon."

Jenkins shoved his hands underneath his armpits to keep them warm. His eyes stayed glued to the young, silver-haired man until he finally disappeared inside the ship. Jenkins turned his full attention to Gabrielle.

"Again, love, it's a furphy, but supposedly these blokes privy from the CIA. I was Godsmacked, though, when the cobbers yabbered about them being given genetic alterations to enhance their performance in battle."

"Genetic alterations?" Eve repeated slowly, completely taken aback by this news.

"Bonkers, yah?" Jenkins nodded to her. "But I think you, little ripper, should know where this is headed. Eh?"

"Mitochondria experiments…" she replied gravely. Then she shook her head. "But not even the shadow Organization was successful in those tests. How did the CIA achieve what they couldn't? I wasn't even aware they were conducting those types of experiments to begin with."

He shrugged. "It's all goss at this point, but if it turns out to be the dinky-di then we'll find out soon enough."

"Navy… Special Forces… Air Force… MIST… and now the CIA…" His hands behind him, Thelonious paced back and forth like a caged animal. His eyes were fierce. When he finally addressed the group, his voice was loud and even. "Something big is going on. I'm beginning to think the Leviathan is just one aspect of a much larger picture."

The group grew silent as Thelonious' theory sunk in. Indeed, there was a lot of information they lacked. Director Broderick had little time to gather intelligence. Pierce learned of the Leviathan only through various accounts of navy vessels destroyed by the creature. He discovered about the mass military operation only days ago. Because everything was so rushed and last-minute, details of the 'who-what-where-and-why' remained a mystery. In essence, they were all in the dark.

"The shipmates who told you this rumor," started Eve, "What else did they say?"

Agent Jenkins opened his mouth to reply to her question. However, he was interrupted when the USS Pharaoh shook violently. Completely unprepared, everyone on the deck stumbled and hit the ground.

"_What the hell was that?_" Thelonious demanded and struggled to get back up.

The sound of metal against metal whined loud enough to completely block out his voice. The water's waves suddenly grew fierce. After another aggressive tremble Eve grabbed the chained rail in front of her and held on. To her horror, she noticed one of the navy battleships, a few miles west from their vessel, bobble to its side before starting to tip over. She could hear the sounds of faint screams from the ship. Hundreds of men and women slid off. When the battleship finally hit the ice-cold waters on its side it made a big enough splash to send out a series of large surface waves. Eve felt the weight of the USS Pharaoh rise and sink again and again; she tightened her grip. Jesus.

It didn't take long before a loud alarm siren blared. This same sound was echoed across by the other naval ships. One after another, the lights and sirens of each boat activated. High above in the skies, Eve saw groups of fighter jets assume attack formations. Shortly after, Eve overheard the ship's captain urge his men to be on battle stations.

"The Leviathan…" she realized out loud, "It's here."


	9. CHAPTER 8: The Storm

**Author's Note:** _Heh, I figured I should post this now since this is one of my favorite chapters. I especially like the end of it since it introduces a major shift in the story. A bit of a warning, though, there are some adult situations happening here so trek carefully. O_O_

* * *

><p><strong>CHAPTER 8: The Storm<strong>

January 16, 1987 | Arlington, Texas

"Baby, we's gotta make plans," a girl of sixteen said.

She was a bit underweight and suffered from a serious case of facial acne. The tips of her long, fine gold hair contained split-ends and one brow was slightly higher than the other. The red rouge applied on her thin lips was a bit too much while the cheap mascara had formed blotches at the tips of her long lashes. Still, the girl wasn't without her charms. Her skin, while pale, was soft and smooth against a caress. And whenever she smiled her entire face lit up and flushed into a rosy color. The sounds of her southern voice were as quiet and gentle as a cool autumn breeze.

The young girl stared at her boyfriend. As she waited for an answer, her fingers tenderly teased the back of his earlobe.

"Plans, darlin'…?" he finally replied.

Struggling with his words, the young male lying next to her became silent. His rich-brown eyes locked into hers. One of his hands held the back of her neck to bring her closer to him while the other had wandered up her skirt. He was a handsome young man; tall and lean-figured. Unlike his girlfriend, his body had somehow adapted to the adolescent changes easily. His auburn-colored hair was thick and healthy while his face remained clear of unwanted pimples and blemishes.

"Plans…" he repeated and stroked the soft skin of her inner thigh. He started to snigger when he couldn't find anything else to say.

"Yeah. Plans for the future. What? Why you got that funny look on yo' face?"

The young man grinned and glanced up.

Surrounded by fireflies, it was a beautiful night. The moon was full and there were a few specks of stars that bathed the southern sky. Quietly, the crickets chirped to each other. Parked at the top of a hill alone under a large oak tree, the young couple had a wonderful view of their tiny town far below. They lay on the bed of a beat-up truck. Covered in blankets, the two had been making out for a good while; kissing and fondling each other.

As high school sweethearts, they enjoyed plenty of intimate outings like this before. However, a fear of pregnancy and a questionable future kept the two from going all the way. Even with protection, they didn't trust themselves. For the young woman, the thought of getting pregnant, being abandoned, and becoming a single mother scared her to death. She already witnessed the challenges her mother faced and didn't want the same for herself. For the young man, he didn't want to make the same mistakes his father made. He married his mother after getting her accidentally pregnant. They assumed religion and moral obligation would be enough to keep them together. However, when the Vietnam War happened, it turned out to be just one of _many_ catalysts to force them to drift apart.

Despite all this, however, the young man had recently become… _anxious_. The moment he turned fifteen last year he gradually developed an obsession with sex. Each time they made out he pushed things a bit further than the last time. Having her ride on his fingers or receive oral pleasure wasn't enough for him anymore. His girlfriend blamed it on his raging hormones.

When the girl felt her boyfriend's finger graze the slit of her moist vulva she slightly flinched back.

"A new year is jus' 'round the corner," she murmured and brought his hand up to her waist. "We's also fixin' to graduate soon too."

"Yeah…" was all he said.

"We's gotta start makin' plans for the future now, sir."

"Sure…"

"There ain't much time. One mo' year left."

"Uh-huh…"

"Are ya even listenin' to me, boy?"

"Yes, ma'am, I am…"

He chuckled when she made a face. Afterward, he moved closer to her again. His hot mouth ran the length of her neck. Stopping at the ear, he pulled on it with his teeth.

"Look, baby…" she struggled to say. His advances muddled her thoughts and caused her groin to throb. "S-seriously… I kinda wanna talk 'bout our plans…"

"But I already told ya mah plans, princess. Or don't ya 'member?" Slipping one leg between her thighs, he rubbed against her swollen sex.

"Y-yeah, I remember…" She chewed on her lower lip.

"I'm leavin' this shithole. Right after graduation, I'm headin' to the Air Force to make a name fo' mahself. Jus' like my granddaddy." His hand crept up and tugged at her breast. "O' course, I's gotta start talkin' like those city boys. Ya know? Sophisticated-like? Can' be talkin' like a Goddamn trailer-trash redneck anymores if I's want to be taken seriously. Mrs. Sanders has been helpin' me afterschool with mah speech."

"Serious? The _drama_ teacher?"

"Yes, ma'am. In fact… check this out." He paused for a second and cleared his throat. When he spoke again, his speech was fluid and without an accent. "_Hello. My name is Kyle Madigan. I am thrilled to make your acquaintance, miss._"

The girl blinked. Kyle's complete change of mannerisms and voice took her by surprise. He was like two persons stuck in one body.

"Pretty good, wouldn't ya say, darlin'?" he asked and grinned.

"Good lord, boy." She stared at her boyfriend. Then she laughed out loud. "You be really talkin' like 'em city boys now! Next thing I's know, you're gonna be livin' in New York, dressin' all proper-like an' shit."

Kyle laughed for a few seconds. His eyes burned into hers. Gently, he stroked her cheek with the side of a finger. Slightly opening his mouth it looked as if he wanted to say something to her. His face flushed with heat, however, and he stopped. There was a twinkle in his eyes. For a brief instant, his girlfriend thought his irises turned into a reddish-brown shade. The odd occurrence came and went, though, and she quickly dismissed it as a light reflection. With two fingers, Kyle yanked down a bit of her blouse and bent over. His mouth caught the bud of her breast.

"I'mma gonna be a _real_ proper gentleman to you tonight…" he murmured to her in a husky voice and suckled her nipple.

"Gentleman…?" She hissed and grasped the back of his head. "Sheeit. You's anythin' _but_ a proper gentleman, sir."

She allowed him to have his fun and removed a few of her buttons to give him easier access to her breasts. Judging by the hardness of his erection and the sounds of his heavy breathing, she could tell Kyle was feeling extremely lustful tonight. The man couldn't take his hands off of her. It was as if he were possessed by a sex demon. Grinding against him, she moaned and whispered a few naughty words to him. Every inch of her wanted to feel their bodies press against each other. At the back of her mind, though, she remembered the serious discussion they began earlier. She opened her eyes.

"I'm happy you're fightin' for yo' dream, baby. I think you'll make a fine Air Force man. But when I was talkin' 'bout makin' plans… I was really talkin' 'bout _our_ plans." She was silent for a few seconds. And then. "We needs… to discuss the possibility of marriage."

Like a bullet, her words shot through the heat of the moment and brought it into a standstill. Kyle stopped and immediately looked up at her.

"Understand what I'm sayin' now, boy?" she asked and looked at him. Delicately, she brushed a few strands of his hair back. "I love you, Kyle; always have."

Looking up at her, Kyle whispered, "Rosemary…"

* * *

><p>October 28, 2015 | Outskirts of St. Lawrence Island, Alaska | 11:25am<p>

It was the chaotic sounds of men and women yelling that woke him up. Half awake and half asleep, Kyle was initially confused. Faint images of a dream still roamed deep inside his mind. They quickly collapsed the moment he tried to recall any details of it. His head throbbing hard, Kyle tried to pull himself together and focus on the current situation. He immediately realized something was wrong. All around him his fellow team members scrambled to strap themselves in. Many of them shouted over the other. A red warning light flashed across the confined space while a small siren sounded off. The K-10 tanker, meanwhile, rocked back and forth against some heavy turbulence.

"We got sighting! We got sighting!" the tech man yelled from up ahead the cabin." His face glued to a screen, he added: "Holy shit, it's huge!"

"Where is it?" demanded the Lieutenant next to him, looking over his shoulder at the monitor. He was aided by his first Sergeant. "I don't see a Goddamn thing. It's just an ocean filled with black waters. Where's the Leviathan?"

"Sir, that whole black mass _is_ the Leviathan."

"You're shitting me…"

Kyle exhaled sharply. Unable to see what they saw, he quickly unbuckled his belt and retrieved his laptop from the bottom of his seat. He activated a live satellite feed of the Bering Sea and nearly gasped at what he found. Whereas before the waters were clear, the entire scope of his image feed was now consumed by black waters. Even as he zoomed out several times to see the exact size of the creature he could only make out _more_ blackness. My God, it was tremendous. Despite all the offenses they brought for this operation, they were _still_ overpowered. Hidden beneath the ocean, the creature overshadowed every boat on water.

"Eve…" Kyle whispered.

To his horror, all the naval ships were stuck right smack in the middle of the hot zone. According to Claudia, the MIST agents were sailing with the Navy boys. From what he could see in this camera angle they were all done for. About the only saving grace was the island. Not far away now, it was possible for some ships to make it. However, that largely depended if the Leviathan stayed put and didn't attack. Like a clever spider, it had successfully lured many victims to its giant cobweb. It was only a matter of time before it'd strike. Kyle wished MIST had taken an aerial route. At least they wouldn't have been directly in contact with the creature. Of course, no one had anticipated how much area the Leviathan would've claimed.

Immediately, Kyle clicked on a few commands in his computer. He needed to locate the navy vessel the MIST agents were stationed on. From there, he could work out a way to get them safely to the island, even if it meant airlifting them out of that tomb they were riding on. With his laptop, Kyle did the most obvious thing: he texted Eve's cell phone. Even though his signal would read as 'unidentified caller' he hoped she would read his message and disclose the name of the boat she was riding on.

_Eve, what's your location?_

There was no answer.

Either Eve had her hands full and turned her phone off… or she didn't trust the source. Good girl. But that certainly complicated things for Kyle. Briefly, he considered disclosing his identity to her yet quickly thought against it. He couldn't compromise his mission or expose his location to any potential third parties. Kyle eventually measured other options and smirked to himself. There _was_ another way to retrieve the information he needed. He doubted Agent Pierce Carradine would approve of it though.

"We're getting set to land, ETA in ten minutes," the ship's pilot announced over the intercom. "Strap yourselves in, boys. It's gonna be a rough one."

Kyle cursed and buckled himself in. Their plane wasn't far from the island so he needed to work fast. Thankfully, hacking into MIST's mainframe wasn't going to be a challenge. The problem was Pierce. The moment he caught anyone snooping around in his network he'd bring down digital Armageddon. While Kyle knew how to override most of his firewalls, the top technician of MIST was as unpredictable as he was cunning. It made it pretty damn tempting to just contact the agent directly and get what he needed. Alas, Kyle didn't want Pierce snooping around _his_ computer the moment he realized his involvement in the operation. The tech man was good, but he was also extremely nosy.

When Kyle reached the information hub of MIST's mission files he timed his digital watch to fifteen seconds. After fifteen seconds he had to log off or risk getting caught by Agent Carradine. Rapidly decrypting and opening several files simultaneously, Kyle browsed through them to find the information he needed. He came upon a document that listed current agents active on the field this week. Eve's name was listed there. Clicking on her name, he arrived at a new page that described her mission. Kyle's digital watch gave him a five second warning when he scanned through it. He picked up a few key words.

_October 28, 2015… Agent Eve Brea… Agent Ben Dollis… Agent Thelonious Cray… Agent Gabrielle Monsigny… Agent Royce Jenkins… Doctor Kunihiko Maeda… Los Angeles… Depart 4:00AM… Loading dock… USS Pharaoh… _

USS Pharaoh.

That was it. Kyle smiled in satisfaction. His digital watch beeped again to signal that his fifteen seconds had passed. Kyle logged off. Right as he was about to enter a few key commands on his computer, though, he saw his entire screen flash red once. A brief warning appeared: _threat detected, security compromised, self-destruct sequence initiated_. A three-numbered countdown immediately began. When it reached zero his laptop shut down and turned black.

Shit.

His computer dead now, Kyle shoved it beneath his seat again. He had to give Pierce kudos; he underestimated his react time. The man managed to detect a hacker _and_ locate him within the fifteen second window. Thankfully, though, Kyle had setup his computer to automatically self-destruct in case it was ever taken over by another user. Even if Pierce traced the computer back to him, he could no longer retrieve whatever information was on his laptop. Still, the loss of the computer was going to be a pain in the ass. Most of the heavy work was handled by it.

Kyle removed a portable device from his uniform's back pocket. While it lacked many of his laptop's capabilities, it held enough juice to do the most basic of jobs. Due to Claudia's current radio silence restriction, he logged in and converted all typed words into Morse code signals. Afterward, he created a message and had it sent to the same radio frequency number Pepper had given him yesterday.

_Raven to Hawk. USS Pharaoh. Pick up party of six on green signal. Acknowledge._

Kyle sent the message.

As he waited for a reply, he texted Eve's number again: _Set up flare for airlift._

The message was sent and Kyle took a deep swallow. If Eve was still alive after this mess and discovered it was him who sent the message, then so be it. Right now that wasn't his main concern. There were so many factors that could go wrong. If Eve and her party were already engaged in battle she may never see his message and get the help she needed. There was also a chance Pepper was too occupied with his own business to bother with an airlift rescue. At this point, everything was fuzzy. Still. He had to try. All he could do was sit tight and pray Eve would be safe.

Kyle's portable device beeped. There was an audio message from Pepper. The young man probably didn't have time to convert his message into Morse code, especially if he was too busy flying. Kyle connected the signal of his portable device to the headset he currently wore via a USB and overheard the message:

"_Hawk to Raven, I received your message, sir_," Pepper's voice came through; clear and sharp. "_It's pretty tight up here, but I'll circle around the ship. Over and out.__"_

Kyle breathed a heavy sigh of relief. So long as Pepper looked over the USS Pharaoh then at least Eve and her team had a chance. He checked his inbox to see if Eve had sent him anything. Alas, still no confirmation from her.

"_Holy fuck!_" the pilot suddenly yelled over the intercom.

The abrupt shout prompted Kyle to look up from his portable device. As he stashed it inside the case below his seat, he overheard a commotion of words being exchanged with the Sergeant and Lieutenant up ahead. They were freaked out by something.

"_Everyone!_ _Hold on!_" the pilot added a few seconds later.

Almost immediately, the aircraft violently jerked left and Kyle's head banged hard against the wall. The sudden event was followed by the sound of a loud explosion outside. His head throbbing now, Kyle knew it was the engine. Something massive must have hit their plane. He heard the metal of the aircraft painfully shriek. Another jolt later and air pressure in the cabin was lost. Several warning alarms wailed. Kyle quickly put on his oxygen mask. Then he held tightly onto the restraints of his safety belt. Every man and woman on board did the same. Their screams filled the space of the cabin.

"_We've been hit! We're losing it!_" the pilot yelled overhead, "_Hold on, everyone! We're… Oh, god, I'm… I'm freezin-!_"

His voice was abruptly cut off and replaced by static. Kyle's eyes grew wild when he noticed the metal bolts and panels towards the end of the tanker quiver and rattle. He could see the air outside seep through the cracks and feel its brutal breeze against his skin. Taking slow inhales and exhales inside his face mask, Kyle tried to maintain his composure. He reminded himself of the parachute attached to his backpack. So long as he kept his cool he'd be able to survive this.

The same couldn't be said for the soldier sitting in front of him. Aware of the situation happening at the back of the plane, the young man quickly panicked and removed his mask. Many incoherent curse words discharged from his mouth as he took off his seat belt. The frantic soldier attempted to run to the other side of the plane until, a few split seconds later, the walls at the very end finally gave way and stripped apart in large sections. The fierce, cold winds of the arctic spiraled inside the cabin and instantly sucked the hysterical soldier out of the plane along with the rest of the unfortunate men sitting at the last seats.

Debris flew all around him and Kyle felt his stomach twist at the scene of it. Their ship was going down. As they descended, the heavy airs now pushed him toward the suction point. His seat bobbled up and down. Kyle swallowed hard when he realized what it was that hit their plane.

"Oh my god…"

He, along with the rest of his crew, focused their attentions on the events happening outside their plane. It was a war zone out there. As the snow fell, a large tentacle stretched high up into the sky for miles while three fighter jets zoomed up ahead and fired a swarm of bullets into its flesh. Unfazed, the single tentacle glowed blue. The light intense, most of the soldiers covered their eyes. Yet, Kyle looked on. He sat motionlessly when he noticed two of the planes nearest to the tentacle mysteriously emit a bluish light now. Within seconds the exterior of the fighter jets became engulfed in a layer of thick ice until spontaneously exploding into a million pieces.

"Fuck me!" spat one of the men nearby, who also looked on at the scene.

Kyle blinked; not able to make sense of it himself. He watched the glow of the tentacle gradually increase in intensity until the soldier near him began to scream. Initially, Kyle thought the man had completely lost it; undoubtedly freaked out. However, once he saw the soldier spontaneously freeze and later explode into a million pieces he was unable to breathe anymore.

"_The hell is going on?_"

The glow from the tentacle faded and Kyle bit his lip when he saw another one emerge next to the first moments later. Below, a group of missiles from nearby navy warships fired into their mid-section. They managed to rip parts of the tentacles' flesh. The victory moment was short lived, however. Almost immediately the tentacles regenerated and now became encased in ice. None of the missiles were able to penetrate through it. In an act of retaliation, the ice-shelled tentacles slammed down into the ocean's waters. Kyle watched three naval vessels explode on contact.

Jesus. This was a no-win battle. They were getting slaughtered out here.

"Bail!" screamed the Lieutenant over the heavy winds, "We need to bail, men!"

His direct order brought them all back to their senses. While their plane was lost, they still had a chance to jump. Even more, they had reached the island and were now flying over an enormous snowy field. The window of opportunity to evacuate was slim though. The plane was headed straight into a series of mountains up ahead. With no control of the aircraft, impact was imminent.

The majority of the squadron that kept their composure did as they were instructed. They undid their seat belts and allowed the winds to carry them out of the plane before activating their parachutes. Kyle followed suit and prepared to release his seatbelt until he noticed a large row of connected seats pop out next to him. He tucked his head out of its way and watched it soar toward the suction point. However, it quickly latched onto another row of seats and trapped several men in place.

"_Goddamn it!_" one woman yelled, her voice muffled by her mask. "_We're stuck!_"

Both the Sergeant and Lieutenant hurried to help. Clinging onto several seats to prevent themselves from getting sucked out, they made their way to their men. When the plane shook again, though, the Lieutenant lost his hand grip. His body flung toward the airplane's opening but his head smacked backwards against a secured crate of ammunition along the way. He died instantly.

Kyle released his belt and carefully joined the Sergeant to assist. The plane was descending faster and the winds were picking up. Through the large gap of the plane he could already see the ground of the island get closer and closer. Together, the two men grunted and managed to release the row of seats trapping the soldiers in place. When one of the soldier's belts was stuck Kyle withdrew a knife from his boot and slashed it off in half. All of them freed now, the men and woman began their evacuation. Kyle glanced at the Sergeant.

"_I got this, sir!_" Kyle told him above the winds. "_I'll make sure everyone is off the plane! You should go now, Sergeant!_"

The Sergeant stared at him. Then he briefly nodded to him. "_I better see your ass topside, Corporal Kappa! That's an order!_"

Kyle nodded.

Quickly, the Sergeant and his men followed out of the plane one-by-one. Kyle removed the restraints of another soldier trapped and turned to see if everyone had gotten out. A few soldiers remained but they managed fine on their own. One of them gave him the thumbs-up before jumping out of the plane. The cabin vacant now, Kyle headed to the cockpit to make sure the pilots had been evacuated. His heart throbbed when he felt the plane tremble violently. The sound of its descent was getting louder.

With only a few brief moments left he opened the hatch. Kyle immediately frowned. Both pilots were dead. Blood and shards of ice everywhere, Kyle was shocked that both of their bodies were covered in ice. Their hands clenched and terrified expressions frozen in place, Kyle could tell they had suffered a painful death. Even more disturbing was the discovery that both of their chests had been imploded from within. This was an unnatural death, shared also by the soldier who spontaneously froze to death not long ago. What could've caused this? The Leviathan?

The alarms of the plane grew louder and beeped faster. Kyle cursed when he finally glanced up at the scenery on the window. It flashed faster. The rocky wall of the mountains loomed just ahead. Kyle inhaled sharply.

Too late. He was too late.

In his mind, he saw the image of his wife. Alone in the middle of a brightly-lit altar, Aya Brea stood; waiting for him. Her hair pulled up into a tight bun, she wore a long, white wedding dress that revealed the soft curves of her bare shoulders. The veil, while modest, showcased an elaborately-designed lace that covered her head. In her hands was a bouquet of flowers. Behind Aya, the afternoon sun cast over her body from a rose-patterned window. Lights of color sparkled and reflected off her. Aya's porcelain-like skin glowed as she looked at him with a smile on her face. One hand stretched out to him.

It was strange. Death never frightened him. But never did he imagine it to be as peaceful as this either. At long last he was going to be reunited with his Aya. He finally found eternity. Taking several steps toward the altar, Kyle's hand reached out to her; eager to touch his bride. Even as the plane crashed head-on into the mountains, his heart radiated with warm thoughts and sensations. Briefly, he recalled the passionate embraces and quiet moments he shared with Aya. Tears streaked the side of his cheeks just as a burst of flames erupted throughout the cockpit. The fire seared through his flesh, tearing into his bare bones. Bloody blisters and boils formed across his parched body and face. Even as his eyes melted away with the rest of him, he still held onto his vision of Aya.

"_Eternity is inside of you…_" he heard Aya whisper to him, just as the tips of their fingers finally met.

Kyle smiled. Then his vision of her grew white before his consciousness finally faded into darkness.


	10. CHAPTER 9: Underwater Seige

**Author's Note:** _Sorry for the brief hiatus. This section of the story is very action-oriented so the pacing has to be good. I felt some of the latest chapters (I'm up to chapter 15, btw) were dragging so I'm taking the time to rewrite them before posting. On a side note, it's fun having all these character personalities interact with each other. My personal favorite couple is Maeda and Ben. Those two crack me up. XD_

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 9: Underwater Siege<strong>

October 28, 2015 | Outskirts of St. Lawrence Island, Alaska | 12:05pm

The waters shook with heavy explosions. Agent Eve Brea stared in absolute horror as the Leviathan laid siege on the battalions that were sent to destroy it. She observed groups of Navy and Air Force fighter jets streak high across the open sky. Large sparks of their bullets rained over the pulpy parts of the tentacles. It seemed almost ironic, Eve thought. They had all come into this battle thinking they had the upper hand. They had the numbers. They had the weapons. And they had the best of the best. Despite all of these advantages, however, none of them mattered. Their attacks were practically useless and their numbers had already been cut to half. Even as the USS Pharaoh, along with the rest of the navy warships, fired many rounds from their cannons and dropped bombs into the water, it made little difference. If anything, their direct engagement with the Leviathan only caused the creature to grow more aggressive.

Eve felt the ocean's waters rise higher and higher as she held tightly onto the chained rail with both hands. For the most part, the massive creature remained hidden underwater. She could only make out its black shape below. Meanwhile, its extensively long and thick tentacles reached to the heavens. There were approximately thirty of them with possibly more still underneath the waters.

Curiously enough, a series of purplish orbs ran across the texture of their skins. They swirled with light. Each time the orbs lit up any ships and fighter jets within range froze and spontaneously exploded. She wasn't sure if there was a correlation between the orbs and the mysterious freeze effect. However, after witnessing a few people freeze and die on deck, she made sure not to stare into the white lights.

The sound of a large crash redirected Eve's attention to the island many miles ahead. It wasn't too far away. In fact, some of the tankers managed to make it there safely. The majority of them, on the other hand, met a quick demise. Eve watched the flames from one plane rise up in smoke. It had hit straight into a mountain. She felt sorry for any soldiers still on board the craft. At least it was a quick death.

"I-it's expanding in size…"

Beside her, Dr. Maeda muttered many words. She wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or addressing the group. The moment the attack began, he had rejoined the crew outside on the deck. A digital camera in hand, he was able to control his personal disorientations long enough to take several shots of the tentacles high above him.

"Notice how the t-the tentacles have altered their pigments throughout the entire d-duration of this b-battle?" Dr. Maeda noted out loud. The tones in his voice verged between bewilderment and astonishment. "Initially they were black. Now they're an intense, um, violet color. The exterior skin seems to have h-hardened as well. The texture is a lot coarser than before. I-it's almost as if the Leviathan is reacting to outside s-stimuli and has produced a substantial amount of biological-based defenses to successfully d-deter our offensive a-attacks. Fascinating…"

Dr. Maeda eagerly took more photographs of the creature, as if it were a pin-up model. Nearby, Agent Dollis shook his head at him. Then he watched one the tentacles slam the waters hard and split in half three aircraft carriers in its path. The rest of MIST stood in silence and gathered visual information on the creature.

Meanwhile, the entire deck of the USS Pharaoh buzzed with life. All sorts of navy personnel hurried back and forth between their stations. Some carried large crates of extra missiles and ammunition while others sought to repair the damages made to the ship as well as secure equipment from the treacherous waters. Already, a series of evacuation choppers were being prepped. Two had begun to lift into the air and send out a fury of heavy winds and snow.

"I don't know about you guys," Agent Dollis chimed in as he watched the choppers head in the direction of the island, "But I say we get the hell out of this tin can. I'm gonna kick the ass off the guy who thought traveling with the Navy was a good idea. Up close and personal investigation, my ass."

"Bloody ace, mate," agreed Agent Jenkins near him.

Gabrielle looked at Cray. Over the sounds of missiles being fired, she said, "At any moment this creature will surface and take us all out in one sweep. We can't stay here any longer. We're sitting ducks."

The vessel jerked left and the team held onto whatever they could grab hold of. Dr. Maeda nearly lost his camera but caught the belt of it and holstered if over his neck. Next to him, Agent Jenkins slipped and began to slide when the ship slanted nearly forty-five degrees downward. Eve managed to catch the strap of his backpack in time before he fell over but she struggled to pull the man back on deck. Right as the ship shifted to the opposite direction, Cray and Dollis quickly arrived and helped her. Agent Jenkins grabbed onto the chain rail. Out of breath, he exhaled loudly and looked down at the rushing cold waters below that nearly took his life. He chuckled.

"Spiffy, pretty spiffy," the Australian man told Eve. "Thanks, love."

"No problem, honey-bunny," replied Agent Dollis nearby and winked.

When the boat temporarily balanced itself again Cray growled. He agreed with everyone else: staying on this ship was a deathtrap. They needed to get airborne and reach the island. Fast. They were likely to sink and drown or suffer from some other form of death if they remained here any longer. Cray frowned, however, when one of the two choppers that recently airlifted from their naval vessel flew directly into one of the tentacle's path. It exploded into a ball of fire and smoke. The skies were as dangerous as the seas, Cray admitted, but at least they'd have a chance. His hands clenched, though, when he noticed the orbs of lights from the tentacles grow bright. They changed from a white to a purplish glow now.

"This is bad…" Eve muttered beneath her breath, seeing the same thing he saw.

"I'll say." Dollis spat onto the deck. "Sheeit, all the damn things are lighting up like Christmas trees."

Eve stared down at the water. Her skin crawled with the sensation of a million needles pricking at her simultaneously. Already, she felt her body generate enough heat to produce droplets of sweat above her brows. The heat came from within her body, though, generated by her mitochondria. Wild now, they sensed a great power ready to unleash itself.

"Hmmm, interesting…" Maeda commented slowly, very intrigued by the orbs. He pushed up his glasses with a finger. "The Leviathan is manufacturing a massive a-amount of energy through those orb-like structures. But… for what purpose?"

"Let's not stick around to find out," Cray bitterly retorted and turned to Eve. He noticed the pale look on her face. "Contact headquarters right now and update them on our situation. I'm going to see if we can hitch a ride in one of those choppers. Everyone else sit tight."

The monotone of his voice alarmed Eve. Usually, Cray's voice emitted various pitches, even when he was concerned. It was very unlike him to behave this neutral. Either the man was keeping his cool… or he was trying his damn best to conceal his fear. As Eve watched Cray run toward the groups of helicopters, she knew they didn't have much time.

"Let's get a good look at you, shall we?" Gabrielle quietly addressed the Leviathan from behind her.

For a moment, Eve watched the woman remove her rifle from the case she carried earlier. An expert sniper, Gabrielle snapped each metal piece into their proper place with great ease and speed. Her movements were soundless, flawless, and graceful. Within seconds her weapon was fully assembled and holstered over her shoulder. The ace sniper aimed at an orb and adjusted the lens for a better look. At the crosshairs of her rifle's scope she observed swirls of purple light gather at the center of the orb.

"W-what do you see?" inquired Dr. Maeda immediately. "C-can I see?"

"Sorry, but no one touches her but me," Gabrielle replied with an easy smile.

Curious, she fired two shots at center mass. The bullets ricocheted loudly from her rifle and instantly reached their target. Gabrielle froze in place, however, when she realized how little effect they had on the orb. Through her lens, she watched the light grow in intensity. It was as if it had absorbed her bullets and strengthened itself.

When Eve noticed the look of shock on Gabrielle's face, she removed her cell phone to contact MIST headquarters. She blinked. According to an alert, there were two missed text messages. They were minutes apart from each other and came from an unidentified caller.

"_Eve, what's your location?_" the first message read. The second one ended with: "_Set up flare for airlift._"

At first, she considered the possibility that these texts were accidentally sent to her number. However, the caller addressed her as 'Eve' and, therefore, knew her. The second message was particularly interesting. _Set up flare for airlift. _Was this person aware of the Leviathan situation? Perhaps it was a member from MIST who sent these texts.

"Hey, Dollis," Eve directed.

"Yah?"

"Do you have a flare you can spare?"

"Sure do." From his backpack, Agent Dollis extracted the desired object and handed it to his partner. "Whatcha need it for?"

Eve paused when the USS Pharaoh bobbed again. The waters were growing fiercer and she could feel a great tremble from beneath. Underneath the water, a soft glow emitted outward. Peering over the rail, Eve noticed the shapes of more orbs below. Much larger than the ones on the tentacles, they were roughly four times the size of their ships. Eve tried hard not to lose her grip, especially when she examined the rough surface of an alien skin that consumed the ocean floor.

"In case of an emergency," she told Dollis at last and swallowed hard.

After she put the flare inside her own backpack, Eve immediately contacted headquarters. She brought up Pierce's number from her phone list and dialed it.

"_Agent Brea_," Pierce's voice answered from the other line. "_I'm relieved to hear from you. What's the situation going on out there? Rupert won't stop pestering me._"

"It's not good, sir. We are currently under attack and we have already lost half of our men to this creature."

"_What? Are you kidding me?_" He gasped. "_Crap. So you got a visual on the Leviathan. Are the reports of its size true?_"

The vessel rocked hard and Eve had to wait until the sound of heavy artillery momentarily subsided. Finally, she answered: "We've yet to see its actual form, but it's enormous and I think it's getting ready to surface right now. We're trying to hitch an air ride before it does, sir."

"_Shit. I knew it was a bad idea to send you guys out there blind and in a bad position. We had little to no intelligence on the creature and all the aircrafts assigned to this operation were fully occupied by mobile infantry. Neither military branch, aside from the Navy, could spare space for third party groups. We should've waited until we were fully prepared. I'm sorry. It's all my fault._"

"It's okay," Eve reassured him, "It was now or never. Even if we waited, we wouldn't have had the numbers we needed on our side, sir."

Agent Carradine went silent for a few moments. Finally, he asked: "_Is Kunihiko documenting the creature for me? I want to analyze what we're dealing with._"

Eve glanced at the quirky scientist to her left. Dr. Maeda was digitally recording now. A goofy grin on his face, he edged closer to the rail to capture extra details of the tentacles. However, he quickly pulled back when a stray bullet nearly shot him on the foot. He let out a loud yelp and retreated behind Agent Dollis for cover.

Dollis frowned. "Bitch, I just _know_ you ain't trying to use me as your human shield."

Maeda nervously scratched his head. "Heh…"

"Yes, sir," Eve replied flatly to Pierce over the phone, turning her attention away from the two men. "Dr. Maeda will send all of his evidence to you once we have a moment to spare."

"_It may help to know what this creature is and its capabilities,_" Pierce considered, "_Please make a note of what it does and, if possible, obtain samples of it. Safety comes first, of course, so secure a plane and look after yourselves. That's an order._"

"Yes, sir."

"_I'll inform Rupert of the situation and rally up a back-up crew. I know Cray said you guys wouldn't need one, but given how many people you've lost and the power of this creature, I'd rather be safe than sorry, y' know._"

"Thanks. Any help will be appreciated. Speaking of which… " Eve paused.

"_Yes?_"

"Did you send me a couple of text messages awhile ago?"

"_No. Why?_"

"…It's nothing."

On the other line, Eve heard Pierce emit a low sigh. When he spoke again, his voice was even. "_Eve, not long ago I caught someone snooping around our database. Whoever it was, this person managed to pull up your mission profile. I'm looking into it, but there's a chance this person could be posing as MIST for malicious reasons. Remember, I'll only contact you through the number your phone recognizes. If you're receiving anything anonymously be super cautious, okay?_"

"Right, sir."

"_Good luck. Contact me immediately when you reach safe distance. Seriously. I want to know that you guys made it out all right._"

"Yes, sir, I will."

Eve hung up and stuffed her phone inside her jacket. Right as she did, she noticed Cray a few paces away. Heading toward their direction, he returned with a gloomy look on his face. Gabrielle noticed too and lowered her weapon.

"What's the situation, Thelonious?" the sniper immediately asked.

"Righty, now," Agent Jenkins added. "Give it a burl, cobber. Let's hear it."

"It's a mixture of good and bad news," Cray informed sulkily.

He glanced back at the helicopters. With narrowed eyes, Cray observed a small group of men dressed in dark coats board one. Among them was the young man with silver hair Agent Jenkins had spotted earlier. As the helicopter began its ascent, Cray turned to his team again. He shifted his weight to one side and frowned.

"The Navy is short on choppers so they're going back and forth to drop off several parties at the island. The Air Force is assisting in the evacuation but the situation is the same for every other ship so they're spread thin. After this run, though, we should be next for pick up." Cray sighed. "The Captain told me we can board a lifeboat now. He's already loading many men on them. But as far as I can tell that's a suicide run. We're better off staying on this ship until a helicopter arrives."

"This blows," griped Agent Dollis immediately, "By the time those damn choppers come back we'll be swimming six feet under. I hope you ladies brought along your swimsuits."

"Can it, rookie," Cray barked back.

While Eve could care less for Agent Dollis' drama, inwardly, she agreed with him. The Leviathan was ready to surface at any moment now. Worse, the lights from its orbs had grown stronger. The mitochondria within her responded in accordingly and cocooned her body with intense heat. Christ, it was as if someone dropped ten pounds of hot wax over her skin. Grunting softly to herself, Eve wavered and nearly collapsed onto the ground until Gabrielle grabbed her by the arm and steadied her.

"_Eve_." Gabrielle looked concerned. "What's wrong?"

"M-my body…" she explained and hugged herself. "It feels h-hot. The Leviathan… S-so much power… I… God, I'm so hot."

"You _are_ hot," Dollis joked. "That aside…" He looked back at Dr. Maeda. "I'm guessing this has something to do with her mitochondria?"

"Yes, it appears that way, d-doesn't it?" Maeda approached Eve and touched her forehead. He felt the heat against his own skin. "Hmmm. Um, yes. Hot. An involuntarily reaction caused by the s-simultaneous production of electrical signals currently discharged by her mitochondria. Undoubtedly, it's an immediate response to a situation that potentially jeopardizes their host. I-interesting."

"So in plain English… Eve's mitochondria are reacting to fish-face here, right?"

"Precisely."

"Awrighty, then. Glad we're on the same page, doc."

"So how long can we expect the next helicopters to arrive?" Gabrielle asked Cray. Her eyes remained on Eve. "If Agent Brea is reacting this way, then we've run out of time. Did they at least give us an estimated time of departure?"

"Twenty minutes," he answered through gritted teeth.

"Beg yours, cobber?" Agent Jenkins stared at him, a bit miffed by the news. Then he looked at the helicopters that roamed the skies. Half were engaged in battle while the rest were barely making it to the island. He shook his head. "It's all crook, that's what this is, mates."

"Brother, just so you know I don't understand half the things you say," admitted Dollis to Jenkins. "But I'll agree to that last part anyway."

Eve groaned loudly all of a sudden and finally fell to her knees.

"_Eve!_" Dollis blinked.

Dr. Maeda squatted next to her and held her hand. "Um… Are y-you okay?"

Concerned, everyone circled around Eve while Dr. Maeda spoke a couple of words to her. Eve's mind was too distracted by the pain to hear any of them properly. Every pore of her skin felt violated; taken over by the concentrated warmth her mitochondria generated from within. As painful as this experience was for her, though, her mitochondria was acting as an ultimate warning system. In short, they told her to leave. _Now._ This was a battle they could not win.

Biting her lower lip, Eve tried to reach into her backpack for the flare Dollis had given her. Granted, she had every reason not to trust the text messages she received on the phone. Pierce warned her to be cautious. But at this point, she had no choice. They needed to evacuate immediately.

_One of us_… she heard an inner voice. _All of us…_

It was her mitochondria. In a desperate attempt to save themselves, they mentally communicated to their human host. Speaking with her voice, various words transpired simultaneously inside Eve's head. There were too many of them to keep proper track of. On her knees, Eve stared up at the long tentacles of the Leviathan. Piercing the peaceful afternoon snowy skies, they illuminated a fierce purplish-blue color now.

This _thing_… this Leviathan… It possessed an incredible power within itself, a mysterious force that only her mitochondria seemed to understand. If Eve lived passed today, perhaps she would unravel the Leviathan's mysteries and discover its origins and true purpose. This creature was unlike any NMC she had ever encountered before. Even when she stood in the presence of Hyde, the High One that nearly killed her during the time of the Twisted, her body had not detected such a terrifying, primal power as this.

_The seed of our Father… Created to merge and bring about the calamity…_

The seed of our Father? Eve wondered. She expected an answer from her inner voice again. Instead, her head began to hurt. An image of the world encased in ice flashed before her eyes. She saw the snowy field from her nightmares; watched drops of snow bathed in blood fall from the skies. Tears formed at the far corners of Eve's eyes as the pain in her head gradually grew worse.

Nearby, Gabrielle saw Eve in distress. The expert sniper brushed back her hair and tried to get the young agent to focus on her. "What is it, Eve? What's wrong?"

Dr. Maeda immediately pulled his hand away when her skin grew hot enough to cause a blister on his palm. His brows furrowed. "H-her condition is more severe than last time… This is bad."

Pale-faced, Eve reached again for her flare but failed. Consumed by raw heat and pain, she couldn't get her hands to work.

"Flare…" Eve struggled to say to Gabrielle, looking at her. "In my bag… We… we need to light one up… R-rescue…"

"_Rescue?_" Cray overheard and echoed.

"Ngh, no t-time to explain…" Eve urged and shut her eyes, "Just… do it…"

While she couldn't understand Eve's request, Gabrielle complied and removed a flare from one of her backpack's pockets. Tapping the bottom of it with her thigh, a gush of green color instantly sparked and blazed upward. Carried by the chilly winds and snow, the long trail of smoke swirled and crept further into the skies. Gabrielle kept waving the flare to send the signal higher while Dr. Maeda helped Eve up to her feet. Once an immense light abruptly discharged from underneath the waters, however, each member of MIST stood in place.

Large water waves splashed onto the deck. Growing in size and in strength, Cray and his company quickly retreated away from their current positions and sought refuge at the bow end of the vessel. Men and women alike, meanwhile, screamed when another series of tentacles unexpectedly emerged from the waters. Dr. Maeda paused long enough from his run to notice that these elongated organs were much different than the previous ones. A mixture of blue and red tones, they contained a richer and thicker texture. The most notable difference, though, was the lack of orbs on their skins. Instead, Maeda could see they were replaced by an extensive series of sharp, protruding blades that ran the entire length of the tentacles. The blades, themselves, varied from small to large; each of them sharp to a point.

Throughout the Bering Sea, the bladed tentacles rose. Maeda aimed his camera and clicked a series of photos at the phenomena. He was thoroughly surprised when each tentacle began to sway and converge at a single point over the ocean. In fascination, Maeda, along with everyone else, saw the tentacles touch each other's tips high in the sky. The light from the orbs grew white hot and spread across the entire extensions of the Leviathan until it eventually traveled below the waters.

"Damn it," cursed Cray. "Some serious business is happening here!"

"We better hold on to something," advised Gabrielle and hung her rifle over her shoulder through its strap. "This is going to get real nasty."

Her warning came just mere seconds in time before the side of the ship slammed against something hard. Glowing like the others, one of the razor sharp tentacles penetrated the USS Pharaoh's southwest section. Its blades easily cut through the steel as it wandered upward to the center point in the sky. Almost immediately, the ship took in massive amounts of water. The steel whined as it caved in to gravity and pressure. Naval officers and seamen near the suction point were immediately pulled into the waters.

The situation worsened when the water waves rose higher in the wake of a massive object. The members of MIST held on but struggled when high waters carried over onto the deck floor. The waters began dragging people and equipment alike to the ocean.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," said Agent Dollis, coughing and drowning. He held onto a pillar for dear life. When he saw his partner several feet away, struggling to hang on, he reached for his backpack. "This wasn't… what I… fucking signed up… for…"

Eve screamed when a good chunk of the vessel rapidly shifted downward. The ship was splitting in half. From her position, she was getting yanked toward the suction area. With both hands on the rail chains in front of her, she felt her body lift right when the vessel slanted again. Her feet no longer touched the ground. The brutally cold waters, in the meantime, only worsened her circumstances. Gagging and choking against them, Eve had difficulty holding on while her body's temperatures continued to decrease to hypothermia levels. She shivered uncontrollably and began to lose her grip.

All around her, the screams of falling soldiers filled her ears. Eve tried not to panic herself. Even when her body involuntarily reacted and accidentally soiled her panties, she reminded herself again and again that Aya was strong and never afraid. Gasping for air and a glimmer of hope, Eve looked for the others. She wondered if anyone was nearby to help her. By the bow of the ship, her eyes found the long trail of green smoke from Gabrielle's flare. Despite the fact that Gabrielle struggled to latch herself onto a protruding air vent, the sniper waved the distress signal back and forth. Eve prayed that whoever sent that message didn't lie; she hoped help was on its way.

The sound of a heavy, muffled roar blocked out her frantic thoughts. From below, Eve felt the incredible momentum of a giant object rise to the surface. Even the reverberation of its wake was terrifying. The waters below trembled loud enough to block out the screams of men and women, including her own. She closed her eyes.

"I'm… I'm… Agent B-Brea…" she whispered to herself; shivering and hacking out water. "A-agent… B-b-brea… MISssssT…"

One of Eve's hands slipped the moment the boat angled higher and was now past a sixty-degree angle. Whether the USS Pharaoh had officially split into two sections or remained connected, she did not know. Any noise it may have caused was effectively blocked out by the Leviathan's stir. She did not intend to open her eyes and face the horrors that awaited her. If she was to die today she wanted it to be quick and painless.

Briefly, Eve thought someone called out for her name. Yet, she couldn't tell. The waters continued to splash over her. They felt like a thousand knives stabbing into her skin simultaneously. Eve couldn't help herself; she cried. The tears began to flow down her cheeks when her second hand started to lose friction.

"A-aya…" Eve begged and choked on water. "H-help me… G-give me your strength, b-big sister…"

A part of her wanted to believe Aya still possessed an unnatural power that would allow her to come at this very moment to save her, just as she did in Neo Ark. Or perhaps Aya could channel some dormant abilities within her right now. Eve wanted to have faith in the possibility of otherworldly influences. But either Aya couldn't hear her or… she wasn't there. Two of her fingers gave way. Then three. By the time she was down to her thumb, the vessel was at a full ninety-degree angle and Eve no longer cared to hang on.

"I'm… ss-sorry…" she said. "I'm… so… sorry… I-I can't hang on anymore, Aya. I'm sorry…"

She finally let go.

Eyes still closed, Eve fell. She halfway expected to find herself engulfed in cold water or, worse, in the clutches of some giant sea monster. Yet, something tight latched onto her wrists that shortened her fall. She wondered if Aya had heard her pray after all. Eagerly, she opened her eyes. When she did, however, she found only her rookie partner hovering above her. Hanging by a rope that was tied to the pillar he occupied earlier, one of Agent Dollis' hands clutched onto her left wrist while the other gripped the rope.

Eve was taken aback by the deep glare in his black eyes. For the first time since she met this man Dollis was dead serious.

"You're not _allowed_ to let go when you're with me, Eve," he told her as matter-of-fact. "Now pull yourself up, woman, and hang the fuck on."

Eve stared at him for a moment. His words sliced through her like a stainless steel blade. A part of her felt embarrassed and ashamed at what she had just done. She had effectively given up and thrown in the towel. Disappointed at herself, Eve avoided eye-contact with her partner. Neither Aya nor Kyle would have ever done such a stupid thing. They were strong enough to keep going; she obviously wasn't. But now wasn't the time to get depressed. Right now she had to focus on the task at hand. Breathing heavily, Eve grunted and swung her body a bit so that her loose hand grabbed onto the rope.

"That a girl," Agent Dollis approved with a large smile.

Eve pulled herself up onto the rope. Right as she was about to say something to Dollis, the vessel shook and she glanced below. The remains of the USS Pharaoh were sinking. Not far beneath them, she saw the cold waters collect fast. Fear and frustration crossed her face.

"Start climbing!" Dollis urged and ascended the rope.

Eve followed suit.

Inwardly, a part of her wondered what the point was. They were going to drown at this rate, even if they climbed to the very top. If the water didn't kill them then the Leviathan would. Still, she couldn't stop. She had to will herself to keep going. Dollis wasn't going to give up and neither should she. With all her strength, Eve ignored the nagging questions and concerns in her head. Even as large waves of water splashed over them she worked her legs and hands up the rope. She refused to look down at the creature that steadily climbed toward the surface of the waters. Somehow, she had to believe they were going to make it.

"Holy shit, look!" said Agent Dollis up ahead.

Surprised by the cheerful tone in his voice, Eve glanced up. At the very top of the ship was a helicopter. It hovered over the green smoke from Gabrielle's flare. Smiling, Eve saw the expert sniper steady herself on top of a pillar while the chopper flew to her side. Whoever the pilot was, he was good. He managed to keep the helicopter stable enough to allow Monsigny on board. Cray and Jenkins followed next. Afterward, the helicopter swayed left and picked up Dr. Maeda, who stood white-faced and thoroughly wet on top of a thick pipe. He barfed once before climbing inside.

"Damn it, we've got no landing for pickup," Dollis suddenly reported. "And we've run out of rope."

"_What?_"

The chopper steadily made its way to their position. However, as Dollis pointed out, they had no landing. Because they were so close to the suction area now, the helicopter couldn't descend any closer. Dollis' brows arched slightly when he noticed the chained rails at the far side of the boat. They were roughly a few meters away. If they could reach them they could climb higher to get picked up.

"Grab onto my back, Eve," Dollis ordered. "I got a plan, but we gotta move fast."

Eve could tell the man was on a clear mission by the tone of his voice. She didn't question him. Instead, she complied and climbed onto his back.

"I'm gonna swing us to the side rails there."

"You're going to do _what?_" Eve's eyes widened.

Dollis grinned. "Trust me."

The distance between them and the side rails was huge. As a result, Dollis had to leap them both down toward the suction point to gain more rope. Eve understood his plan of actions. They needed to acquire enough momentum to swing to the side rails. However, they needed to work fast. There was no room for error. If they didn't reach the rails on time the waters would take over them. Already, Eve heard the large crash of water waves just below. She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale.

"Hang on, Eve!"

Using his weight, Dollis arched his body toward the side rails and swung their bodies back and forth to build speed and gravity. Eve helped. She shifted her weight and pushed and pulled in the same pace as Dollis. Together, they steadily gathered velocity and momentum. Like a pendulum, they swung higher and higher. Opening her eyes again, Eve saw her fellow teammates in the helicopter. Directly across, they cheered and encouraged them to keep going. A determined look on her face, Eve concentrated on their voices and blocked out all distractions, including the rushing waters directly below her. With her partner, they grew closer toward the side rails now. After a few more swings, Dollis laughed.

"This is it! We's got this shit in the bag, baby! Whoop!"

Those words were the final drive she needed. Eve used all of her force at the last swing. When the pair slammed hard against the side rails, she caught a part of the chains to prevent them from getting pulled back. Dollis followed next. With the waters practically on top of them now, the two immediately climbed the chain to reach a safer distance for pick-up. Her arms were exhausted and her legs felt like wet clay. The entire event left her breathless and she practically gasped for air. Yet, Eve pushed herself forward. She saw Agent Dollis climb and pursued. She had to keep going and never stop.

Right as the helicopter pulled to their side, Agent Dollis turned. He lowered his hand to pull Eve up into the chopper first. She opened her mouth to express her gratitude but he immediately shook his head.

"You can only climb up," he told her immediately. "Got it?"

Eve slowly nodded and understood what his words meant.

"Let's get the hell out of here now," he added later with a nod.

The helicopter was next to them. Eve briefly smiled at Dollis. Then she reached her hand out to Gabrielle who immediately took it and pulled her in. Agent Dollis was next, assisted by Jenkins and Dr. Maeda. When all members of MIST were accounted for, the pilot steered the helicopter higher and away from the USS Pharaoh wreckage.

Standing at the edge of the door hatch opening, Cray looked down and surveyed the damage that was done. Struck with grief, he shook his head and watched hundreds of soldiers float in the waters; either dead or in distress. The sea was also littered with destroyed fighter jet planes and half sunk naval vessels. Not a single of the warships survived. Their fires burned brightly while their smokes consumed the afternoon skies. A few planes managed to make it but Cray could already tell they were low on ammunition.

It wasn't that long ago that he stared at these ships and soldiers with a deep sense of pride. Now it pained him to see the results of their battle. As a former Special Forces soldier, it struck him to the core. These men and women… His brothers and sisters…

Cray smacked the wall with a fist. Then he peered directly at the Leviathan. Thousands of miles away, he saw the tips of the tentacles converge at high center point. Light and electric bursts sparkled across their shapes. Cray's eyes widen when he saw a massive form slowly rise and bubble above the waters. His team gathered around him to witness the remarkable event.

The Leviathan stretched out for hundreds of miles, practically engulfing the entire Bering Sea with its body. Overall, the sea creature held a shape similar to a Cerianthus filiformis. As elegantly-designed and mysterious as it was, however, the Leviathan was consciously alive and clearly harbored a good number of biological defenses. The razor sharp tentacles that emerged recently were connected to the far outer rim of the Leviathan's body. To their horror, Cray and his team realized there were a lot more than they originally accounted for; hundreds of them in fact. Yet, they had remained underwater and appeared to protect the center portion of the creature.

While the majority of the Leviathan was dark and pulpy there were also long strings of intense multi-colored light that ran across its center surface. Shining with brilliance and magnificence, they formed elaborate designs similar to Tibetan tattoos. These designs eventually connected to several orbs, including an incredibly large one located at the heart of the creature. Like most aquatic life, the skin of this particularly huge orb was transparent and possessed incredible patterns that ranged from lines to dots. A dim, reddish light glowed from within it and throbbed back and forth. The first set of tentacles, which had emerged at the start of the battle, actually originated and attached to the round sides of this orb. Where the tentacles sprouted, a succession of fin-like structures also protruded and swayed gently against the winds.

"This is incredible…" muttered Dr. Maeda, who finally broke the group's silence. He stepped toward the ledge and peered at the center of the creature. "That giant orb… It seems to be a vital function to this creature. S-see how the tentacles collect there, as if to protect it? Perhaps it is the heart of the creature? Hmmm?"

"So let's shoot the hell out of it," suggested Agent Dollis.

"Heh… While it c-certainly is tempting to think it's the heart, Ben, I d-do not like to jump to c-conclusions so quickly."

"Well, what else could it be then, Doctor?" inquired Gabrielle, curious herself.

Dr. Maeda scratched his head. "Um… That remains to be unknown. Until I a-acquire the necessary amount of evidence, this is only a hypothetical theory. Also…um, ah… well. Um, never mind. Heh…"

"Christ, something is obviously brewing inside that thick skulls of yours," Cray said agitatedly. "Spit it out already."

"Um… Well. Er. I g-guess I'm concerned." Maeda looked at everyone. "This is obviously a creature of g-great intelligence and incredible power. I-it is a perfect biological weapon; a product of evolution. I-I have a hard time believing it would possess s-such an obvious, weak point. S-something's not right."

"Maybe it ain't as perfect as you think it is," countered Cray. "Besides, you said the tentacles are there to protect it, right? It _must_ be the heart."

"Y-yes, I did. But… they could be protecting that area for another purpose too. A-again, I have no solid proof to conclude what the true function of that orb is."

Rolling his eyes, Cray turned his attention away. To the pilot, he shouted, "Hey, man, you got any missiles left in this thing?"

"Just one, sir."

"Fire it at that orb then." When Cray received an affirmation from the pilot he returned his attention to Maeda. "Look, doc, if this is our only chance to take out this creature then we gotta take it. Shoot first, ask questions later."

Dr. Maeda pulled back a strand of hair from his face but said nothing.

Nearby, Eve stood and watched the sea creature in silence. Shivering from the water she had just escaped, she covered herself with a blanket she found and tucked her hands deep inside her armpits for warmth. Admittedly, she was a bit awed by the Leviathan's intricate and compelling design. Maeda called it a product of evolution and she did agree with the statement. This NMC was incredible. Eve didn't blame the Japanese scientist for being overly cautious. They knew so little about this creature.

_One of us…_ her mitochondria spoke again. _All of us…_ _The ultimate seed… Provided to us to set the way for our kind…_

The helicopter turned around. Locking onto the massive orb, the pilot fired his last missile directly into it. After a brief explosion, the orb burst outward and splattered tissue and fluids across the Leviathan's surface.

Triumphantly, Agent Dollis clapped his hands together once and grinned. "Boom! How do you like _them_ apples!"

With a vital organ gone, Cray and the others looked for visual signs the Leviathan would die or, at the very least, had weakened. Eve was tempted to believe that Maeda was wrong when she noticed the tentacles attached to the orb pause. They had stretched to their full length but stopped midway into the air. She dared to hope. Yet, the moment was brief. It came and passed as soon as the orb quickly regenerated itself. The thin tissue that once held it together had grown denser and more colorful. The light within it shined a brighter red color while the entire body of the Leviathan turned white.

"Fair suck of the say!" spat Agent Jenkins loudly. "We are in the shit now, mates. Let's bid this creature a hooroo and arse off…"

Dollis cocked his thumb toward Jenkins. "What he said."

His face now a mask of alarm, Cray immediately went to the pilots' cockpit. "Get us the hell out of here. _Fast._"

"Yes, sir. Everyone, secure your positions."

The pilot steered the helicopter toward the direction of the island, which was only a few miles away. He maneuvered around the tentacles that blocked his path. Even when one attempted to collide with him he swooped below with ease and evaded its attempt. His eyes remained locked to the snowy fields and trees of St. Lawrence Island.

Meanwhile, everyone on board did as he instructed them to do. Eve strapped herself in and tightly held onto the safety belts with both her hands. Like before, her body swelled with heat. Whatever the Leviathan was set to release it drove her mitochondria mad. The voice within her whispered a series of words she could not understand. _Seed._ _Creator. Merge. Ice. Father. Awakening. The calamity. _None of it made sensed. It might as well have been said in a different language for all she cared.

The sky flashed white abruptly. A long moment of dead silence passed over Eve, as if someone turned off the volume. She felt a massive force jerk the helicopter forward and bit her lip. Cray cursed nearby while Gabrielle grunted at the opposite direction. Briefly, the pilot warned about the engine. Eve didn't pay any attention to it. Instead, her eyes locked onto the scenery outside through the doorway opening. White everywhere, she was blinded by an immense light.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**_ "Fair suck of the say! We are in the shit now, mates. Let's bid this creature a hooroo and arse off…" Agent Jenkins; a man of many words. XD_


End file.
